How to Date a Nation
by Plumcot
Summary: Ever since Canada started dating Russia, suddenly his life seems a lot more chaotic. Especially since invisibility is hard with a tall, scary Russian looming over you. And how did a man like Germany end up with his adorable, air-headed Italian anyway? Series of drabbles about the nations and their various significant others.
1. Lesson 1: Try Not to Get Jealous

**Author's Note:** **Okay. So I recently became obsessed with Hetalia. Understandable, right? Because, you know, Hetalia. Of course, as soon as I started reading the Fanfiction I became absolutely obsessed with Canada, who is freaking adorable. Specifically RusCan. This is a collection of short drabbles about Canada and his adventures. The first one is kinda short and weird, but don't worry; they get longer, and better. I have a little backlog, so I'll put up the first one today, the second tomorrow, and the third the day after, and we'll see from there. This is how I procrastinate, so I'm seeing one chapter going up every two or three days.**

**Oh, and fair warning; I think of this as a series of one-shots within a common universe, not a single story with a bunch of chapters. So while there might be some continuity, elements referenced from previous stories and such, there's not gonna be much of a plot. So if you like your stories to have a point to them, walk away now.**

**Anyway, read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**Chapter Summary: Canada and Italy are movie buddies, which of course means Germany and Russia have to attend too. While watching Avengers, Ivan notices that Matthew seems to have a bit of a crush on Tony Stark. This simply won't do...**

* * *

Canada was practically bouncing up and down in his seat on the airplane ride to Italy and Germany's house. He gazed out the window, a smile on his face, waiting in happy anticipation for their landing.

Russia smiled. "You certainly seem excited, Matvey." He commented, his fingers intertwined with Canada's.

Matthew turned to him. "Of course!" He said in his normal whisper, pushing his hair back behind one ear. "I love having movie night with Feli!" Ever since Canada and the larger nation had begun dating, they had found they had a lot in common as a couple with Germany and Italy. The four had begun going out together on a regular basis, and after discovering a mutual love for cinema, Matthew and Feliciano had become self-proclaimed movie-buddies. Movie night was once a month, if they didn't get so anxious they couldn't wait another day. No-one ever knew how many movies they would watch, or which ones, but it almost always ended with all the nations up way past bedtime, and someone asleep on their feet. It was a blast.

"Can we watch The Little Mermaid?" Kumajirou asked from his aisle seat.

"We'll see, okay Kumajiki? Canada said reassuringly.

"Aww, but that always means no."

"No, it means we'll see." Kumajirou sighed and went back to his nap.

When they finally got to the house, Feliciano burst out of the door, Germany standing behind him looking somewhat adoringly at his overenthusiastic boyfriend. "Matthew!" Feli called, gathering his friend in a hug.

"Feliciano!" Matthew said, just as excited as Italy was as he returned the hug. They pulled away and held each other at arms length, grinning at each other.

"Ooh, ooh, Matthew, guess what Germany got for us!" Italy said.

"What?" Canada asked.

"The Avengers!"

"Really? That's awesome!"

Ivan chuckled at them as he walked past their fangirling and stopped in front of Germany. "He's been talking about this all month." He said to the blonde, who was still leaning in the doorway of his home.

"So has Feli. You'd think it would get on my nerves, but it is rather… cute what good friends they are."

Russia smiled. "Da, I think so too. And it is good for Matvey to get out of the house." If you left him alone long enough, the only times Matthew would actually leave their comfy little abode would be to play hockey, get maple syrup when they ran out, and go to UN meetings. Oh, and Canada day. But that was another story.

"Well, come on!" Feliciano pushed his way past them and into the house, leading a grinning Canada by the hand. "It's time to start the first movie!"

* * *

"Popcorn?" Feliciano asked.

"Check." Matthew answered.

"Blankets?"

"Check."

"Boyfriends?"

"Check." Ivan and Ludwig said in unison. The four were sitting on the couch, cuddled up with their respective boyfriends and ready to watch Avengers. Kumajirou of course, was cuddled on Canada's lap. And don't thing Russia didn't see that triumphant little look the bear had given him.

"You really haven't seen this yet, Matvey?" Ivan asked as the intro started.

Matthew shook his head. "Alfred told me I had to wait for him to see it. But after a few years, that kinda started to seem silly…" Ivan frowned. That idiot, manipulating his poor little Matvey like that.

"Shh!" Italy shushed them. "It's starting!"

Ivan couldn't help but be amused as Matthew watched the screen with absolute concentration, absentmindedly picking at his popcorn without once taking his eyes off of the action. He found himself enjoying the movie too, to be honest. And that Natasha woman was no one he'd want to get in the way of, which made him all the happier that they had decided to make her from Russia. But about halfway through the film, he began to notice something… interesting. Tony Stark would come on the screen, and Canada would bite his lip and lean just a teensy bit forward. This irked Russia. What, Ivan wasn't enough for him? He had to have Robert Downey Jr. too? Maybe he'd like him if _he _was an alcoholic jackass with heart problems… well, he already pretty much had the first two down. But nonetheless, something had to be done. Matvey was his, and no one elses. Not even the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist's.

After the movie was done, Matthew and Feliciano, not surprisingly, turned to each other and began to discuss the film. Well… more like Italy talked, and Canada listened. "Ve, that was amazing! I'm really sad for Loki, though, I hope they give him a happy ending! And why did they have to kill Coulson?" Matthew nodded happily through Italy's ranting.

"Da, it was very good." Ivan agreed, smiling. "And Matvey, what did you think of that Tony Stark?"

Matthew's cheeks blushed a rosy pink. "Well, um… he was very, um…"

"Germany?" Russia said.

"Ja?"

"I believe we may have to return home early."

"What? Why is that?" Ivan flashed him a brief look that said 'don't question it', and Germany simply shrugged and waved him off. "Alright. Have a nice night."

"Wait, Ivan! Why do we have to go?" Matthew protested as he was led out the door by the stronger nation, Kumajirou rushing to keep up with them.

"Ludwig, why did Mattie have to leave?" Italy pouted.

"Somehow I think they had business to take care of."

"Business?" Germany raised his eyebrows. "Ohh…" Italy suddenly realized, blushing much like Canada had. "Well… what do we do now?"

"What's the next movie?"

"Thor 2, the Dark World."

"Well put it in!"

* * *

The next day, Canada walked into the UN room with his eyes on the ground, holding onto Russia's sleeve.

"Good morning everyone!" Ivan said cheerily as he led the second biggest country to his seat beside him.

"Hey, you guys finally made it!" America shouted happily. "Whoa, Mattie, he sure kept you up all night, huh?"

That earned a furious red blush and a small "Eep!" From Matthew, who immediately hid his face from his brother.

"Do not tease Matvey." Russia said sternly. "He's had a long night, after all." This only served to make Matthew recoil further into his chair. The night had, in fact, been long and tiring. Ivan had made sure of that. And he had also made sure that all thoughts of Tony Stark were driven from little Matvey's mind.


	2. Lesson 2: Be Careful on Canada Day

**Author's Note: Omigosh you guys are so awesome! I wasn't expecting such good feedback after that first chapter! Since you've all been so very good, here's a little present for you; drunk Canada. It might be different from what you're expecting, but I'm very proud of this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it too! Read and review, please!**

**Chapter Summary: It's Canada day, and Ivan is expecting the usual; they might buy a cake, he'd get some last minute presents, and he'd pamper the smaller nation all day. But Matthew already knows exactly how he wants to celebrate, and it involves more alcohol than Ivan thought...**

* * *

It was the first of July in Canada's house, and that meant just one thing was on his mind.

'It's my birthday!' Matthew thought to himself happily when he first awoke. "Ivan!" He said aloud, shaking Russia's shoulder gently. "Ivan, wake up!"

Ivan grumbled as he opened one eye. "It is too early for this, Matvey."

Matthew glanced at the clock. "It's ten in the morning…"

"Da; too early." Ivan said, as if this was a conclusive argument on its own. He then closed his eye again and rolled over to face the other wall.

Matthew huffed. "But Ivan, don't you remember what day it is?" Ivan's eyes snapped open. Oh shit… what had he forgotten? It wasn't their anniversary, was it? His mind raced through all the possibilities before he finally landed on one.

"Of course!" He said, sitting up in the bed. "Happy birthday, Matvey!" He pulled Canada into a kiss. "Now, how do you want to celebrate?" Ivan asked, hoping that whatever he wanted to do it could wait until he had slept in a little longer.

"Same thing I do every year, silly!" Canada said. "I'm going down to my favorite bar with Alfred and the others."

"Tonight?" Russia asked, one eyebrow lifted.

Matthew smiled, looking amused that Ivan didn't know the answer. "As soon as we're done with breakfast!

Russia laughed. "Matvey, don't you think it's a bit early to drink?" He loved the man's enthusiasm, but…

"Of course not, silly! Now come on; we're having pancakes with maple syrup! It is Canada day, after all." Matthew hopped out of the bed with vigor, heading down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Mmm… morning." Kumajirou said from his spot at the foot of the bed. The polar bear was finally awake.

"Good morning, bear thing."

Kumajirou frowned. "That's not my name."

"Very well then, Kumajirou. What is _my_ name?"

Kumajirou scrunched up his face for a moment. "You're the one who feeds me?"

"No, that is Matvey."

"Then you're the one who uses me as a pillow?"

"Da."

"I don't like you."

"I don't care." Ivan stood from the bed and walked out the door, leaving the polar bear to scramble after him. It was a strange rivalry they had – it was sometimes reminiscent of a cat jealous of the new baby – but they liked each other deep down. Not that they'd ever admit it

* * *

About an hour later, the two found themselves at the front door of a quaint looking local pub. Kumajirou had been left at home for obvious reasons, with a tuna sandwich and his favorite movie. (Which just so happened to be Gone With the Wind. What, polar bears can't have mature tastes?)

"The Merry Moose." Russia said dryly, reading out the name on the sign above him. Well, it was definitely Canadian. "And you… come here often?"

Canada shrugged. "Only on my birthday. Come on, I bet Alfred's already here." Ivan followed Matthew in through the door with a mixture of anticipation and worry mucking about in his head. Anticipation because he had never seen the smaller nation drunk before, and he was sure it would be entertaining. But worry because, to be honest, he wasn't sure if Matthew could handle it. Russia was an entirely different story; he put vodka in his cereal for goodness sake. But a man with Matthew's small frame probably couldn't handle all that much.

"Hey, bro! Happy birthday!" Ivan's thoughts were interrupted by the very loud Alfred, who immediately tackled his northern twin in a hug.

"Thanks!" Matthew said, muffled by his brother's jacket.

"Oh yeah, and I got you a present!" Alfred turned around began rifling around inside a bag on the stool behind him. Matthew braced himself for a bag full of hamburgers, or (another) "World's Biggest Bottle of Maple Syrup". America finally pulled out a small, rectangular object wrapped in paper with a maple-leaf print. Matthew giggled a bit at the wrapping paper as he took the gift, careful not to rip the paper. (Which he actually kind of liked, no matter how clichéd.) The object that emerged was… a journal. It was a leather journal, with a floral design tooled into the cover. His brother had actually gotten him something thoughtful for once…

"Th-thank you, Alfred!" Matthew said, trying to stop himself from choking up. Curse his delicate emotions.

Ivan rolled his eyes discreetly as his boyfriend got emotional over a book. It probably hadn't even cost that much money. "Well?" Alfred said. "Come on, dude! The bar's over there!"

They all walked over to the bar and sat down. Alfred ordered a whiskey, Matthew a beer, and Ivan just got straight vodka. Ivan watched, amused as Matthew downed his first drink with relative quickness and started on the second.

"Damn, this is good stuff!" Matthew said, grinning as he put down the second bottle. Ivan nearly jumped at the volume. His quiet little Matvey… had stopped whispering! In fact, he was starting to approach a yell.

"Matvey? Are you alright?" Ivan asked, still smiling but now slightly concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Canada waved him off.

"THE AWESOME ME IS HERE!" Ivan and Alfred both snapped to face the door as Prussia burst in, a huge grin on his face and Gilbird perched on his head. "The party can begin!"

Matthew, who hadn't even bothered to turn around, took his fifth bottle from his lips and said; "Shut your mouth, it's my day, eh?"

"Matvey?" Ivan turned to Matthew in surpise. America and Prussia just laughed.

"Already had a few, huh Birdie?" Gilbert laughed, still grinning as he sat down beside them.

"You could say that." Canada replied.

"The others are on their way. Soon we'll have a real party!" Russia was starting to think that tonight might be different from what he had expected.

* * *

Hours later…

"Whoaaaa, caught in a bad romance!" Matthew wailed at the top of his lungs from on top of the stage. (Stage, table, what's the difference, right?)

"Whooo, Canada!" The crowd cheered, whistling in encouragement. The crowd being the other nations who had joined the party. Canada was suddenly hit in the face with something, and grinned when he saw that it was Italy's shirt.

"Thank you, my adoring fans!" He shouted.

In the corner of the room, Russia found himself seeking refuge with Germany, the only other relatively sober nation in the area. "They do this every year?" He asked.

"I've heard, yes. I was only first invited last year, but it looked a lot like this. Only…"

"Only what?" Russia prodded.

"There was a lot more fire."

"Well, the night is young, da?" Russia said, with his usual too-cheery smile.

"Ja…" Germany agreed. It was, in fact, around six at night by now. He was starting to wonder when the others would run out of energy, but it looked like that day would never come. He chuckled as he surveyed the scene. Canada was up on his table singing Born This Way. Italy was screaming like a groupie, something Ludwig would have to keep an eye on. Ireland was alternating between cheering Matthew on and taking swigs of his Guinness. France was trying to climb up on the table with Canada, and being held back by a surprisingly strong hand. ("B-but, mon petit Matthieu! Papa wants to sing with you, non?") Prussia was trying to fly, with lessons from a very confused Gilbird. Cuba was doing some weird improvised dance that involved a lot of bouncing and arm flailing. Spain and Romano were making out in the corner, which wasn't much different from when they were sober. And England was slumped over the bar crying and being comforted by America.

"Dude, chill out! I can't even understand you!" Alfred laughed as he patted the Englishman's shoulder.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, you bloody git!" Arthur sobbed.

"No, like, seriously dude, what are you so worked up about?"

"Don't think I don't know!"

"Don't know _what?"_

Arthur took a deep, shaky breath before his next accusation. "You cheated on me, you bastard!"

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows and laughed. "What? No I didn't! Why would you think that?"

"Everyone knows about you and that… that _Marilyn _woman!"

"Marilyn…? Arthur, what-" It hit him mid-sentence. "Marilyn _Monroe?_"

"Oh, so you admit it! I bet you remember _her _birthday…" England let his head hit the counter again.

"Dude! Artie, Marilyn Monroe was _dead_ before we even started dating! Where the hell are you getting this from?!"

England sniffled. "I… I saw you watching her movies."

"Arthu-ur…"

Meanwhile in the middle of the room, Canada had finally stopped his impromptu concert. He jumped down off the table, staggering briefly before he was caught by Feliciano who, for the record, was still shirtless. "Hey!" He said to his Italian friend, grinning wide. "Hey, hey hey _hey_!"

"What is it?" Italy asked.

"I have the best idea ever!" Feliciano nodded eagerly, waiting for the big reveal. Canada straightened himself, put his hands on Italy's shoulders as if he were about to say something imperative. And said; "Let's go to the moon."

A smile slowly spread across Feliciano's face. "Si! Si, that sounds like a wonderful idea!"

"I know, eh? Hey, Alfred!"

"Yeah?" America looked up from comforting his sobbing boyfriend.

"We're going to the moon! Wanna help?"

"Whaddo I know about that?"

Canada rolled his eyes. "Hell-_oo_!" He said. "You guys are the ones who got there first!"

"Oh… oh, yeah! Yeah, I can do that!" He stood up off of his stool. "Hey, Artie, I'll be right back."

"Wh-wha? But where are you going?" Arthur protested, lifting his head to show his red face covered in dry tears. You really shouldn't give England alcohol.

"To the moon!" Alfred said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"This can't end well." Germany said to Ivan.

"Da… should we be watching them?"

"Let's go." Unfortunately, the three would-be astronauts were soon lost in the chaos.

"This could be bad…" Ludwig said as they searched tirelessly around the neighborhood. They hadn't found them anywhere in the bar, and had so resorted to checking the nearby buildings. Now they had come full circle back to where they started, standing inside the pub. "They weren't in the convenience store, or the flower shop, or the hardware store… I don't like the sound of this project of theirs."

"Alright, I think that's it!" Both nations turned in the direction of America's triumphant shout. They walked together through the back door and out into a little side yard on the side of the pub.

"Oh, gott…" Ludwig muttered when they finally reached the others. Canada, Italy and America had stolen an outhouse – an _outhouse. _Germany hadn't even known there _were _outhouses anymore! – And put a car motor beneath it. Ludwig mentally reminded himself to find out whose car had been cannibalized and have the three apologize.

"Ludwig, you're just in time!" Feliciano said enthusiastically.

"Feli, what do you think you are doing!?" Germany said as Italy skipped over to him.

"We're going to the moon! Do you want to come?"

"Are you sure you have thought this through?" As Germany was trying to reason, it seemed Canada was getting… impatient.

"Alright!" He shouted. "Let's light this sucker up!"

"Wait, no don't!" Ivan and Ludwig both yelled in unison, as Matthew reared back and delivered a swift kick to the engine. For a second nothing happened. But soon the engine started to shake and putter, and before they knew it the outhouse was zooming across the yard, propelled by the (obviously malfunctioning) engine. Of course there wasn't much space for it to zoom in, and it crashed into the neighboring convenience store.

All five nations stood, shocked for a moment. It was Alfred who broke the silence. "That was awesome!" He shouted, high fiving Canada midair.

"Science!" Matthew screamed mirthfully.

"Awww… we didn't go to the moon." Italy lamented. "I was looking forward to meeting moon men…"

"Maybe next time, ja?" Germany said, pulling Feliciano close.

"Si." Ivan, for one, was rather happy with how the night turned out. Sure the danger level seemed to go dramatically upwards when Canada was drunk, but he was, if nothing else, amusing to watch. Perhaps the smaller nation could be convinced to celebrate Ivan's birthday the same way…

* * *

The next morning…

The sun shone bright once again, and the birds chirped merrily outside of the window, just as in the day before. But with one difference.

"Nnngh…" Canada groaned as he tried to bury his face into his pillow. "Make the birds stop…"

Ivan chuckled. "Perhaps you drank too much last night, da?"

"W-why are you shouting?" Matthew said in his normal whisper. Ivan grinned. He was fun when he'd had a few, but he still loved his timid little Matvey.

"Come here, little one." Ivan said, pulling Canada into a big bear hug. Canada gave a little whine and buried himself in the Russian's arms. Yup; just how Ivan liked it.


	3. Lesson 3: Weird Hobbies Are A Given

**Author's Note: Ever have one of those days when you sit down to write a short chapter, and end up with a short story? And then you get so involved you all but completely blow off physics class to write? Yeah. This chapter is my baby, so I hope you enjoy it! People who read and review get a hug from Canada!***

**Chapter Summary: While attending the UN meeting in Poland, Canada finds himself walking in on Poland himself wearing some... interesting things. He thinks nothing of it for a while, until he realizes that he also wouldn't mind wearing said interesting things. Yes, this is a cross-dress fic. Enjoy.  
**

* * *

Canada sighed miserably to himself as he walked through the halls of the hotel.

'_I'm officially lost, aren't I…' _he thought to himself. The UN meeting was being held in Poland, and the hotel was a quaint, old-fashioned place with comfortable-looking furniture and no distinguishable markings. It was that last part that was really getting on Matthew's nerves. Russia had said he'd be waiting for him in the hotel room, and from the tone he had used he really didn't want to miss whatever Ivan had waiting for him. "Maple…" He swore under his breath. "Kuma?" He turned to the bear walking beside him. "Maybe you can smell out our room?"

"Who?" Kumajirou asked, confused.

"I'm Canada. The one who feeds you." Matthew said, as per the routine.

"Oh… what do you want me to do?"

"Just… sniff out anything that smells like me, but isn't me. Can you do that?" Kumajirou nodded and sniffed the air. He soon took off down the hallway like a kicked horse. "H-hey! Kumamamu, wait for me, eh?" He whisper-shouted after the bear as he shot down the hall after him. Two lefts and a right later, he finally caught up to the bear, who was scratching at a particular door at the end of one hall. "Great job, Kumakichi!" Matthew said delightedly, reaching down to scratch behind his friend's ear. He turned the knob, and the door opened to show…

Definitely _not _Russia.

"Ahh! Like, who are you!?" Squealed a very surprised Poland, who immediately hid behind his closet door, only his red face showing. Unfortunately, he forgot to take into account that Canada could still see what was _in _the closet.

"Um, er, um…" Matthew stammered, trying to find the right words for the situation. There were none.

Of course, that didn't stop Kumajirou. "Dresses?" He questioned, bounding over to the closet. "You're not a girl."

"C-close the door!" Poland squeaked. Matthew did so, dumbly. "I meant with you on the _other side!" _Poland hissed.

"Oh, um… I'm sorry?" He turned to Kumajirou. "Kuma, why did you even lead me here!?"

"Smelled something yummy." The bear answered. He then proceeded to snuffle around the room until he came across an uneaten tuna salad sandwich on the nightstand. "There it is!" Canada mentally facepalmed. That was the last time he used Kumajirou as a bloodhound.

"Um… I'll just leave." Canada said awkwardly, turning to leave the room.

"Wait!" Poland shouted from behind the closet door.

Matthew turned back around. "Y-yes?"

"You're Canada, right?"

Matthew's face positively lit up at being recognized, screw that it wasn't exactly the situation to look so happy. "Yes! Yes, that's me!"

"You're like, the nice one?

"Well, I suppose so. At least compared to Alfred." Poland furrowed his brow in concentration, as if trying his hardest to make an important decision. He then squared his shoulders, and finally stepped out from behind the door. Matthew couldn't help but smile. The other nation was wearing a loose tan sweater, with a red plaid schoolgirl miniskirt. He had on classic black Mary-Janes, and a pair of white below-the-knee socks with lacy cuffs. His bobbed, straight blonde hair was pulled back on one side with a pink barrette. He looked _adorable. _And Canada wasn't ashamed to admit it.

"I know this has gotta look, like, _really weird." _Poland said, his eyes on the floor and his arms clutched tightly to his sides.

"No! No, not at all!" Matthew said. "You actually look really pretty, Poland!"

At that, Poland looked up at Canada and smiled. "Th-thanks! That's so totally cool of you!" His posture now was more relaxed, more comfortable. "And you know, you can call me Feliks if you want."

Canada nodded. "Of course, if you can call me Matthew."

"I'd like that. So you really don't think I'm a… a freak?"

"Oh, of course not!" Matthew said, stepping closer to the other nation. "I'm not going to judge you on how you like to dress, eh? Besides, like I said; it really does suit you." Feliks absolutely beamed at the compliment. But before either could say anything more, Matthew remembered something very important. "Oh!" He said aloud. "Ivan's waiting for me! I have to go Feliks, I'm sorry!"

"That's okay." Poland smiled. "Gotta be with your man, right?" Canada just smiled modestly. "I totally get it. TTYL!" Canada ducked out of the room with Kumajirou in tow, the bear having finished off poor Feliks' sandwich. He would have to lecture him about that later. For now, though, as he set back on his quest to find his own hotel room, he was just happy that he had been trusted with such a precious secret. He made a vow to himself right then that he would do right by Poland, and keep the secret as best he could.

Of course, he had no way of knowing what would ensue from that little encounter.

* * *

The very next day, Canada walked into the UN room with Kumajirou in his arms and Russia by his side. They were the first, as usual, as Matthew liked to be punctual. Next were Germany and Italy, who of course arrived together. Then Spain and Romano, who entered the room mid-argument. Then Australia and his koala. The nations kept pouring in, and the room kept filling up until the conversation reminded Matthew of a movie theater before the film started. And then; then Hungary came in. Canada was transfixed. The way she moved gracefully around the room, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed. But most of all it was the _dress. _That beautiful black dress with just the right amount of puff at the sleeves. The white apron over it, and that perfect little red bow that seemed to tie the whole thing together. It all flowed so gracefully around her body, like a beautiful symphony of cloth.

_'Now why can't I look like that?' _He found himself thinking.

"Matvey?" Ivan's confused voice jolted him out of his train of thought.

"Oh! Y-yes?" Matthew replied, his face flushing.

Ivan frowned. "What were you staring at that Hungary woman for, hm?" He asked.

"N-nothing! I-"

"Alright, ladies and dudes! The meeting of the UN can now officially begin!" Alfred boomed from the head of the table. Canada sighed in relief. Saved by the bell. Or in this case, the loudmouth.

He still had a problem, though; what in maple hell had he been thinking earlier? Did he really want to dress like… like _that?"_

_'Well…' _He thought to himself, glancing over at Poland, who looked somewhat out of place in his usual military outfit. _'Would it really be that bad?'_

* * *

And so there he was, walking down the halls yet again, alone except for Kumajirou. Only this time it was decidedly more intentional. This time he was on a mission.

He had told Ivan that he had to get some canned fish for Kumajirou. He'd had to throw away the cans they already packed to make the lie work, but luckily Canada was usually honest, so it was easy for him to get away with the occasional fib. Of course, there had been the matter of keeping the Russian from following him, but that had actually been relatively simple.

_"Oh, Ivan. I was talking to Alfred today and he says he can hold more alcohol than you. Do you think that's true?"_ That's it. That's all it had taken, and Russia was out the door with a grin on his face that made Matthew feel slightly afraid for poor America. But nevermind that; he was still on a mission. He had to find Poland's room.

Luckily he was a quick learner, and he remembered the route from last time. He found himself standing outside of Feliks' door with Kumajirou. And realized to his dismay that he couldn't seem to bring his hand to knock on the door.

"Why are we here?" Kumajirou asked.

"We're here to find Poland." Canada answered.

"This is his room?"

"Yes."

"Then go in."

"I…" Canada trailed off.

"Can I help you?" Matthew jumped (and possibly squeaked a bit, don't tell anyone) at the voice behind him. He turned to see Poland, still in his green military outfit. "Oh, Matthew!" Poland said happily. "Were you looking for me?"

"Um, yeah, I was." Matthew replied.

"Well come in then, silly!" Feliks walked ahead of him and opened the door with his key, letting both Matthew and Kumajirou into the room. "I didn't think I'd see you again after yesterday! You seemed kinda shy, you know?" Poland remarked. Canada just nodded, sitting down sort of automatically on the bed. "So what brings you here?" Feliks asked.

Now came the hard part. Canada blushed (he really did blush easily, something he often resented around Ivan) and took a deep breath. "I, well… I wanted some advice."

"Yeah…" Poland said, grinning somewhat mischievously as he sat down on the bed beside him. "Advice about what?"

"Well, um…" Canada trailed off again, his blush deepening. "I know you know a lot about… er…"

Now Feliks was starting to get frustrated. "Like, spit it out already!" He said, a bit forcefully.

"I want you to help me try on dresses!" Matthew finally blurted.

Poland was shocked at first. But a slow smile began to creep over his face, until he was grinning happily. "Why didn't you say so?" He said. "I can totally help you with that! Come on over to the closet of wonders!" Canada stood obediently, and followed the other nation over to the closet. What had he gotten himself into? "Okay…" Poland muttered to himself as he pushed back the hangers and started expertly scanning through the clothes. "No, no no.." Canada watched silently as he worked. "I don't know why I even kept this one… okay." He finally turned back to Matthew, with an armful of clothes, and started loading them into his arms. "Try on this, and this, and these, and then report back to me with your favorite."

"Um, okay…" Matthew turned about ninety degrees, then back, sort of seesawing in place as he figured out where to go.

Feliks rolled his eyes. "Change in the bathroom! Go!" Matthew did, walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He lay the clothes over the towel rack, and started trying things on.

'_I can't believe I'm doing this.' _He thought to himself as he pulled off his red hoodie and stepped out of his jeans. He grabbed the dress on top of the pile and examined it. It was a white sundress with spaghetti-strap sleeves and a sunflower pattern. _'Here goes nothing.' _He pulled it over his head and walked over to look in the mirror. He was surprised to find that the dress actually matched his hair quite nicely, but the sleeves were less than flattering. He frowned a bit at the lanky, awkward look they lent to his arms. He pulled it back off and reached for the next one.

This one was a red dress with a poofy pink petticoat, (yes, a petticoat) and long fitted sleeves that poofed up quite dramatically at the shoulders. It seemed a bit… over the top. But Matthew figured it might look better when it was actually on him. He pulled the dress on with some difficulty, and faced the mirror.

Nope; still definitely over the top.

He discarded that one as well, and reached for the next article. He wasn't paying much attention when he took it from the pile, so he was surprised to find that it was nothing but a blouse. He looked back over to the pile to find a skirt lying there; Poland must have meant for him to wear them together. He picked up the skirt as well, noting that it was the last outfit in the pile, and put it on, tucking the blouse under the waist. He turned to the mirror, and gave a little gasp; he looked perfect.

The blouse was a red button-down, with long, loose sleeves that ended in dressy-looking cuffs around his wrists. The skirt was a classic circle skirt, black with a pretty little floral pattern. The entire outfit looked almost reminiscent of the forties. He stepped out of the bathroom.

"You're all done?" Feliks asked, looking up from the magazine he had been reading on the bed. Kumajirou was asleep on the pillow, poor thing.

"Oui." Matthew answered. "What do you think?"

Feliks looked him up and down, grinning. Then clasped his hands and stood; "Omigosh, that looks, like, so totally _perfect _on you!" He exclaimed.

Matthew smiled shyly. "I'm surprised your clothes fit me in the first place…"

"Well…" Poland said, glancing coyly to the side. "I may have a few little fantasies about dressing up the other nations. I've got a few to fit your brother, too."

Canada giggled. "Somehow that's a little hard to imagine."

"You'd be surprised!" Feliks said, walking off toward his nightstand and opening a little box he had there. "Everyone has a feminine side and a masculine side. It's just that most people think they're only supposed to have one, you know? So they end up missing out on all the fun!"

Huh. That was surprisingly profound. "What are you looking for?" He asked, glancing over the other nation's shoulder.

"These!" Poland said, standing up straight and turning to Canada with two shiny little objects in his hands.

Matthew's eyes widened just a bit. "B-but, Feliks! My ears aren't pierced!" Feliks was brandishing two red teardrop earrings with gold posts.

"Don't be silly." Poland said. "They're clip-ons! Now hold still!" Canada decided he might as well, and held still while Feliks clipped the earrings on. "And voila!" Feliks said, causing Matthew to giggle at his shaky French. "Look in the mirror!" Matthew did, stepping back into the bathroom to glance in the mirror. He had to smile at the sight. He looked _pretty. _And wasn't that just an odd word to think about oneself? At least in his case. "I just knew you'd look fabulous in those!" Feliks said from the doorway.

"Thank you, Feliks. You've made me so happy!" Matthew said, meaning every word of it.

"It's no problem! Hey, why don't you stay a while? I can get dressed up, and we can make a day of it! Maybe watch a movie!"

Canada nodded. "That sounds wonderful!" After that, Poland pulled on a simple little blue dress and they sat on the bed together and chatted for a good long time. Kumajirou woke up in time for the movie, (Marley and Me, because Ivan hated sappy movies and also why not?) And made only a passing comment that Matthew looked a little different. But all good things must come to an end, and soon the clock told them it was late at night. "I should probably get going." Matthew said. Poland just nodded. "I'll see you again tomorrow though, eh?"

"Yeah! That would be totally great!" Feliks said. Canada went back into the bathroom and quickly changed back into his usual clothes before stepping out the door, waving goodbye to his new friend. He was in the hall for all of two seconds before he had to rush back and return the earrings he had forgotten about.

"That was fun, eh Kuma?" Canada remarked to the bear as he walked down the hallway back down to his and Ivan's room.

"You looked like that girl." Kumajirou stated.

Matthew furrowed his brow in confusion. "What other girl?"

"The little one with the yellow hair."

"Wait, do you mean Lichtenstein?"

"Yeah, her."

"Ku-uma!" Matthew whined. He was caught between knowing it shouldn't be an insult and feeling ridiculous that his _bear _thought he looked like a little girl. He was standing in front of his door now, and he pulled out his key and stepped inside.

"Matvey, you're back!" He was greeted by a very enthusiastic, red-in-the-face Ivan, who immediately smothered him in a very sloppy hug.

"Um, I-Ivan? Are you okay?" Canada asked worriedly.

"He's drunk." Kumajirou said.

"Yes, I can see that. Ivan, where's Alfred?"

"Yo!" Alfred sounded out from… the bathroom?

"Alfred?" Matthew called as he walked into the bathroom to find his brother. "Alfred…" he finally sighed when he laid eyes on him. "Why are you in the bathtub?" America was, in fact, laying in the bathtub. His clothes were still on, and the tub was dry, and there he was; his face as red as Ivan's and wearing an idiotic grin. But Canada was more inclined to focus on the bottle of vodka in his hand. "Al, what were you doing?" He asked, running his hands through his hair. Though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"Drinking contest!" Ivan shouted, stumbling in and leaning on the doorway for support. "It was your idea, after all!" Oh; right. Matthew slapped his palm to his forehead.

"We weren't done, neither!" Alfred complained. "I was 'bout to kick thish commie's _ass!_"

"Guys, I think it's time for bed, eh?" Matthew tried to reason.

"Nonsense!" Ivan said, a sly grin on his face. He stalked over to Matthew and slung him over his shoulder.

"Eep! Ivan, w-what?!" Matthew squeaked as he was carried back into the bedroom.

"You will become one with Mother Russia, da?"

"Ivan, no! Put me down!" To Canada's surprise, Russia obligingly put him down, though he pouted as he did so. "Like I said, it's bedtime!" Matthew said sternly.

"But I'm not tired." Ivan protested.

Matthew sighed. He really was a child. "Please?"

"No. You can't make me."

Time for last resorts. "Do you want me to have to get out my hockey stick?"

That changed Ivan's tune immediately. "Okay…" He clambered under the covers with his clothes still on.

"Thank you." Matthew said, kissing the larger nation on the forehead. "I'm going to go get Alfred to his room, okay? Kumamamu, you watch Ivan. I'll be right back." Ivan grunted his agreement, and Matthew set upon getting his brother out the door and down the hall to his own room.

"Alfred, again?" England said exasperatedly when his former colony was delivered to his door.

"Don't blame him, it's really my fault he's like this." Matthew said. "I'm sorry!"

Arthur looked confused. "How could this be your fault?" He asked.

"I may have told Ivan something that led to him wanting to have a drinking contest with Al…"

England chuckled. "Well, no harm done. He can take a lot more than this, and at the very least his ego could do with being taken down a few notches." The mumbling nation was transferred from Matthew's shoulder to Arthur's, and they bid each other goodnight before both heading to bed.

Ivan was already asleep when Matthew got back, with Kumajirou curled up tightly in the little crook his bent knees made. Matthew smiled at the sight before changing into his pajamas and getting into the bed with them, careful not to wake either one. It seemed he didn't succeed, though.

"Ya lyublyu tebya." Ivan muttered, pulling the smaller nation into his arms.

"Je t'aime." Canada replied, before snuggling into Russia's arms so they could fall asleep together.

* * *

All in all the nations would be staying in the hotel for a month. Meetings, however, only lasted a few hours. Which meant Canada had plenty of time to hang out with his new friend.

After meetings Matthew would spend some time with Russia, and then head over to Poland's room. They'd get dressed up and do all manner of things together; board games, movies, or sometimes they'd just chat for hours. Matthew enjoyed it. He loved the new side of himself he'd been shown, and having someone he could express it with made it even better. Some days, if they had time, they would even go shopping together. Soon Matthew had some dresses of his own, hidden carefully away in his suitcase.

The whole situation had also led him to start pondering gender norms on a regular basis. Often in meetings he found himself watching the other nations, looking for their feminine (or masculine) sides. He found that there really weren't many exceptions. Prussia, for instance, obviously had a major weakness for cute things. This was evidenced by the day Italy came in with a kitten and Gilbert just couldn't contain himself any longer. (Awww, who's a pretty widdle kitty? You are! You are!) It had been pretty fun to watch. And Hungary, with her dresses and aprons; hadn't she been the one to kick Prussia's ass all those years ago?

Canada's eyes wandered to Italy. He was a bit obvious; everyone had heard the stories about when Feli was little. He rather wished he could have been there to see Feliciano in a dress and apron. He knew for a fact that England loved to embroider, and though Alfred might have seemed like the pinnacle of masculinity, (at least that's how he would describe himself) tease him about his weight and he'd turn into a teenage girl. Metaphorically, of course. Even Germany definitely had a maternal side around his boyfriend – no, he was his fiancé now – Feliciano. And France? Well… he was France. That was an explanation in itself.

"Hey, Mattie!" Matthew's train of thought was interrupted by his brother, who talked through a mouthful of hamburger.

"Oh! Um, yes Alfred?" Matthew said.

"You were, like, staring off into space. You okay dude?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry."

"You sure?" Alfred leaned in conspiratorially, and whispered in his ear; "You didn't smoke anything Prussia gave you, did you bro?"

"W-what!? No, I was just thinking!"

"Thinking about what?"

"I-it's none of your business." Matthew turned away, but the southern twin just leaned in closer.

"Come o-on! You can tell me!"

"I think it is time you stopped bothering poor Matvey, da?"

"Ah, shit…" They both looked up to see Ivan with his hand gripping the back of Alfred's jacket.

"I am going to have a talk with your brother. I'll be right back."

"Mattie, save me!" Alfred shouted as he was dragged off to the other side of the room.

"Don't hurt him, okay Ivan?" Canada called.

"I won't!" Russia called back.

"Hey!" Alfred yelled in protest as he was all but thrown into the corner. "What the hell is your problem?! You made me drop my burger!"

"I need your help." Ivan stated.

Now that was interesting. "Oh, I get it! You were too embarrassed to ask the hero for help in front of everyone, huh?"

Ivan gritted his teeth. "Do not test your luck."

"Okay, okay, that's cool." America grinned. "Whaddyou need help with?"

"It is Matvey." Ivan said. "He has been acting… _strange _lately."

Alfred frowned. "Strange how?"

"For a week or so now, he's been making strange excuses to leave the hotel room, and not coming back for hours at a time. Whenever I ask him about it he lies to my face. He is up to something, and it is making me uneasy."

"So, you need my help why?"

"I need you to help me find out where he's going."

"Yeah…" The superpower was grinning now. "Yeah, I can do that."

* * *

Later that day, the plan was finally put into action. Ivan and Matthew had spent some time together cuddling and discussing the merits of baseball vs. hockey, which Ivan should have known better than to get the smaller nation started on. Until Russia noticed Canada glancing over at the clock.

"Oh! Um, Ivan, I just remembered, I told Alfred I'd meet him later tonight!"

Ivan raised an eyebrow. Now he knew he was lying. "Da? What for?" He asked, wanting to see what the other could come up with next.

"Oh, I don't know. He probably just wants to talk about McDonalds or something." Matthew laughed it off. "I'll be back later. Can you watch Kumajiki?"

"Alright." Ivan let him leave. Ten seconds later he got a ring on his cellphone. "Hello?"

"It's me." Alfred said on the other end. "He's in the north wing, get up here!"

"I'm coming." Ivan stood and walked to the door, but immediately noticed the sound of little pawsteps following him, "Kumajirou, you stay here."

"But why? I want to see that guy too."

"Because it will be easier for me to find him without you."

"I don't care."

Ivan rolled his eyes. "I'll give you a tuna fish sandwich!" He finally said.

"Swordfish." The bear bargained.

"Done." Ivan was finally out the door, and caught up quickly with America.

"Be extra super quiet, okay?" Alfred warned as they followed his brother together. "Mattie has, like, bat ears, I'm not even kidding."

Ivan nodded. "He told me he was going to meet with you." He remarked.

"Seriously? Now we know he's up to something. Come on." They followed him discreetly down the halls for a few minutes. At one point Matthew got suspicious and glanced behind him, but the two were able to hide themselves behind a corner before they could be seen. Eventually Canada made it to his destination, and knocked on the door. The two 'spies' saw Poland open the door and greet Matthew with a smile on his face before they both stepped in, the door closed behind them. "Poland!?" Alfred whispered harshly. "He's buddies with Poland now?"

"If he is cheating on me with that little…" Ivan trailed off, and America got the feeling he was lucky he didn't hear the rest of that sentence.

"Hey, we don't know what he's doing with him, right? They could just be playing board games or something. Let's just go in there and check it out." They both walked over to the door and tried the knob. Apparently Feliks had gained a bit of common sense since he was first caught in the act, because this time the door was locked.

"Wonderful." Ivan grumbled.

"Hold on, man. I got this." Alfred reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bobby pin.

"What, you're going to do your hair?" Ivan said dryly.

"Nah, genius, I'm gonna pick it. The lock, I mean."

Ivan laughed. "You can pick a lock? _You?"_

"You might laugh now, but I am going to make you eat your words." America said, before dropping to his knees and getting to work on the lock. Ivan sighed and let the American do his work. A younger, more impatient Ivan might have barreled straight through, door be damned. But he was a new man since he had started dating Matthew; he would give it five minutes.

Six minutes passed, and Alfred was still picking away. "When are you going to be done!?" Ivan whisper-shouted.

"Gimme some time, man! You can't rush genius." Ivan grumbled, settling for pressing his ear to the door. What were they talking about in there, anyway? The entire time he'd heard muffled words, but nothing distinct.

"G-get it out! It hurts!" He heard Matthew from the other side of the door.

"I'm trying, it's too big!" Ivan's eyes shot straight open. That was it. Screw the lock, and the door.

"Alfred, stand back." He commanded.

"What?" Alfred said, looking up from the lock. He saw Ivan backing up against the opposite wall. "Whoa, whoa whoa whoa. If you're about to do what I think you are-" He was cut off when Russia, regardless of his pleas, charged at full speed toward the door. Alfred only had enough time to dive out of the way before Ivan slammed into the door with his shoulder, knocking the whole thing off its hinges.

"Matthew!" He shouted, rather heroically, ready to save him from the evil Poland. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the scene in front of him.

"Dude! What the hell was… whoa." Matthew and Feliks were sitting on the side of the bed together, Feliks with a hairbrush still in Matthew's hair. Well, that answered one question. But the outfits... Feliks had on a pink v-waist dress with a floral print, and a delicate silver necklace with a teeny rabbit charm. And Matthew… Ivan gulped when he saw what his boyfriend was wearing. It was a white dress, loosely cut, which hung tent style around his body. The collar was attractively scrunched up, (probably elastic) yet so wide it fell just short of being shoulder-slung. The sleeves were short, just long enough so that it wouldn't be classified as a tank top. And there was a blood-red sash tied around his waist, almost making it look like he had curves. His shoes were little red slippers, which might have actually been suede. And his hair was tied back on one side with a red bow, almost like the ones little Lichtenstein wore. Everyone stood for a while, shocked. It was Alfred who finally broke the silence.

"Sooo… I guess you're not cheating on Ivan, huh?"

"Like, look what you did to my door!" Feliks shouted, standing from the bed. Matthew gave a little squeak as the hairbrush was ripped from his hair. "Oh, sorry Mattie!" He apologized.

"Hey!" Alfred said, standing from the ground. "Only I can call him that!"

"What is going on here!?" Ivan roared.

"P-please don't yell, Ivan." Matthew stuttered. That calmed the Russian down, and he walked over to be close to the smaller nation. "Matvey, what is this?" He pleaded. "Is this what you've been sneaking away to do all this time?" Matthew nodded slowly. "But why?"

"Yeah, I'd really love to know why you're getting all dolled up with Poland here. Is this some weird fetish or something?"

"What? No!" Poland protested. "It's not like that at all!"

"Ivan, I know you probably can't understand, but dressing like this makes me feel good about myself." Matthew said, patting the space next to him for Ivan to sit down.

The Russian obliged, and turned to Matthew as he sat, an understanding look in his eyes. "Matvey." He said, his hand on his lover's shoulder. "I want you to tell me the truth. Do you want to be a woman?"

"What!?" Matthew squeaked. "N-no! I-"

"Because I want you to know, if you do I won't love you any less." Not that Matthew didn't admire the man for being so accepting, but this was not the direction the conversation needed to be going in.

"Ivan, I'm not transgender!" Matthew said. "A guy can wear dresses without wanting to be a girl!" Okay, that had sounded better in his head. But he took a deep breath and continued. He had to make them understand somehow. "It's like… like Feliks told me once. Everyone has a masculine side and a feminine side. It's just that society tells us we're only supposed to have one, so people end up restricting themselves to one or another." So far so good. "There's a difference between female and feminine."

"So, what you're saying is…" Ivan said, trying to process this in his mind. "You want to be feminine?"

"Yes! Exactly!" Matthew said happily. "You understand, then?"

"Not really." Matthew's face began to fall, and Ivan spoke quickly. "But that does not mean I disapprove." Matthew smiled, and threw his arms around the larger nation.

"Sooo, my bro is a cross-dresser. This is new." Alfred said from the other side of the room. "What, you wear make up and everything?"

"No, I prefer the natural look." Canada answered confidently.

America grinned lopsidedly. "Okay, okay. I think I could get used to this." He stepped toward his brother, narrowing his eyes. "You know… like this you kinda look like Lichtenstein." Matthew's face turned red as Poland snickered in the corner.

"Go ahead, make fun of me." Matthew said. "But we still have a problem."

"And what is that?" Ivan asked.

"What are we going to do about the door?"

* * *

A few days later, things were back to normal between the four countries. Feliks was on good terms with Alfred and Ivan, and the latter two were even invited to some of their dress-up days. But as the month wore on and the meeting of the UN was coming to an end, Matthew began to grow restless.

"I feel like I don't want to hide it anymore." He said to Poland one day as they played video games together with Russia and America in the hotel room. "I don't want to have to be one thing out there and another in here. It'd be better if I could just be _me _all the time, you know?"

"Okay." Feliks said. "Then walk into the meeting room in a skirt."

"No, no, nothing that extreme. Just a little something to show that… that I'm different now."

"Look at you! A few weeks with me and you're, like, counter-culture dude!" Matthew smiled at that.

"Dude, how the hell did you do that!?" They heard Alfred shout from the floor.

"Cheat codes." Kumajirou said. How a polar bear got ahold of cheat codes, they'd never know.

"Anyway," Feliks continued. "Don't worry about it. It'll happen if you let it, y'know?" Matthew nodded. He still couldn't help but want something. Some little detail that would scream 'this is who I am!' to the world.

* * *

On the last day of the UN, Matthew walked in with Ivan as usual. He sat down next to the larger nation as usual. And as usual, nobody should have noticed him. But something was different today. Something no one could quite put their fingers on. And so they noticed.

"Matthieu, you look lovely today!" Francis beamed at his son.

"Si, Matthew! You look really pretty!" Italy said enthusiastically.

"Yeah dude, you look great! What'd you do?"

Canada smiled, and pushed his hair behind his ears so they could all get a better view. There, in the middle of each earlobe, was a little ruby stud.

"Matthew?" England said, surprised. "You got your ears pierced?"

Matthew nodded. "I just thought it was time for a change."

"Well… they look good. On you, that is." Matthew's grin grew wider as he thanked everyone for their compliments. They would probably all forget about him tomorrow, that was true. But no matter what, now he could just look in the mirror and feel that confidence coming back from the first time he had slipped into that dress. It felt good.

* * *

***The author cannot be held responsible if Canada doesn't actually show up. He's kinda shy.**


	4. Lesson 4: Compromise is Key

**Author's Note: Okay, so I've been working on this chapter for ages. I had the whole thing planned out and it was gonna be awesome, which it is. But then I realized it was getting waaaay too long to just be one chapter... so I've split it up. Here's the first one, and there should be six more after it. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Summary: Italy and Germany have a kitten now. It's been established. But... why? How? Who, what, where, when? This is the story of Italy's quest to procure himself a furry friend. Mission Soft Kitty, initiate!**

* * *

Germany sat at his desk, his brow scrunched up as he looked over a single sheet from the mountain of paperwork next to him. He usually liked this part of the job, to be honest. Being one of the few people left in the world who appreciated hard work, he loved the feeling of satisfaction that came with it. But he had been letting these pile up for days, due to certain… distractions. Replace "Distractions" with "Feliciano" and you have a pretty good idea of what his life had been like lately.

Now, it wasn't that they hadn't been very pleasant distractions. Doing anything with Italy was always a pleasure. And it wasn't as if he couldn't have simply told the other nation he was busy. But… but you try saying no to that face, dammit! And so here he was, with hours of work and possibly carpal tunnel syndrome ahead of him. He let his head hit the desk, very much wishing he could just have someone else do his paperwork for him. Didn't other people have… well, _people _for this kind of thing?

As he was wallowing in his self-pity, something he didn't indulge in often, Ludwig felt something soft batting at his cheek. He looked up to see a small, tortoiseshell kitten with blue eyes staring down at him, its head cocked.

"Ah, come here Silvano." He said affectionately, sitting up straight and bringing the kitten into his lap. The kitten, Silvano, mewled happily and began to purr as he was scratched behind the ear. Such a docile little thing… Ludwig smiled, and got to work with Silvano in his lap. Really, he didn't know why he had refused to let Feliciano get a kitten in the first place.

…Well, that wasn't exactly true.

* * *

A month earlier…

"Luuudwiiig!" Ludwig heard the cry just in time to brace himself as he was wholeheartedly embraced by Feliciano. Thrown off balance, he had to steady himself carefully against a potted plant before he could stand up properly. The two had found, serendipitously, that they both had a day completely free on their schedules. No paperwork, no meetings, nothing. Germany would have gladly stayed at home and had a nice night in with Italy, but Feliciano had had another idea.

And so here they were, at the mall. And Ludwig had made the stupid mistake of giving the Italian ice cream. Little tip; never give Italy sugar. Never.

"Yes Feli? What is it?" Ludwig asked the shorter Feliciano, who was currently practically hanging off of his arm with a gleeful look in his eyes.

"Ludwig, you have to see what I found! Come on, come on, take a look!" Ludwig let himself be led around the corner, apologizing to any shoppers they bumped into on the way.

"What is it you want me to-" Germany got his answer when they rounded the corner, and he found himself standing outside the window of… a pet shop. Of course.

"Look, they're so adorable! Look at all the little puppies and kitties!" Ludwig smiled as he watched him fawn over the animals in the window. He really was adorable, how enthusiastic he could get over things like this. "Can we get one?"

That snapped Ludwig out of it. "Nein." He said firmly.

"But whyyy?" Italy whined.

"You know how I feel about pets. They leave fur everywhere, they slobber on cleanly pressed uniforms, and they have to be cleaned up after. They are nothing but walking messes." It was very well known how straight and clean Germany liked to keep his home. A pet would just undermine the constant state of order he tried to maintain. Not that Italy helped that very much either.

"We could get a kitten, though! Then we wouldn't even have to housetrain it! And besides, look how adorable they are!"

Ludwig was about to give him another firm no, but then he caught the look on Feliciano's face. Oh gott… he was giving him the puppy dog eyes. Italy's eyes were wide and pitiful as he looked up at Germany from below, his lower lip jutting out just so. It was heart-wrenching, and Feliciano _knew _that, dammit! But it looked like he had no choice.

Ludwig growled a bit under his breath. "Fine." He finally said. "You can have a kitten."

"Hooray!" Italy jumped up and embraced Germany. "Ludwig is so nice!"

"_But." _Ludwig said.

Feliciano pulled back to look at the German's face. "…But?" he echoed, his face fallen.

Ludwig smirked. "You can have a kitten, but only if you will allow me to confiscate all of your white flags. For one. Whole. Week."

Italy gasped. "V-ve? You can't mean that, Luddy!" Germany bit back a chuckle at the use of the odd pet name. "An entire week!? I won't survive!"

"Don't be silly, Feli. We both know you are stronger than that. So." He put his hands firmly on Italy's shoulders. "Can you take on this challenge? Are you ready?"

"S-si." Feliciano stuttered.

"I said," Ludwig said, a bit louder. "Are you _ready?" _

"Ja!" Feliciano said, confidently, with a salute thrown in for good measure. And dammit if that wasn't the hottest thing Germany had ever seen. He heard a hesitant cough, and looked up to see most of the other shoppers staring warily at them. Oops… it seemed they had attracted a crowd.

"Come on, Feli, let's go home." He said, tugging gently on Feliciano's hand and leading him away from the onlookers.

And so began Italy's mission; survive one week without any white flags, and obtain a sweet, lovable kitten. It seemed like a fair trade off. That didn't stop him from gnawing his fingernails nervously on their way back home, though. He had never been without them before… what if somebody tried to conquer him and he couldn't properly surrender? The flags had always made him feel safer somehow, like no matter how bad things got he always had a way out.

But he was too old for such things. He had left behind the security blanket, and the teddy bears, and Germany had convinced him to give up the night light ages ago. He could do this. He was strong enough.

* * *

The first day was, as expected, uneventful in terms of potential conquerors. After all, the first day only had about four hours left in it before bedtime. That didn't stop Italy from packing in as much in as possible, though.

"Ludwig?" He asked as they were stepping back into their house, the old door closing behind them.

"Yes, Feli?" Ludwig answered.

"Can we have dinner outside tonight?"

Ludwig raised one eyebrow at this. "You realize most people generally have picnics for lunch, ja?" He said.

"Si, but it's not lunch anymore! So please? We could go to the park and sit under my favorite tree and it would be so romantic!" The Italian said, with his hands clasped and a hopeful smile on his face.

Ludwig smiled fondly. It wasn't like it would be that much trouble, right? And besides; a happy Feliciano was one of his favorite things in the world. The decision was easily made. "Alright, Feliciano. What would you like to have?"

Italy's eyes lit up. "Pasta!" He immediately said.

"Of course." Germany said. Why would he have expected anything else to come out of his mouth?

"Oh, grazie grazie grazie!" Feliciano basically squealed, throwing his arms around the larger nation for the third time that day. (Not counting that morning before breakfast. And after breakfast. And when he had tripped over his foot and Germany caught him.)

"I suppose you'll be making the pasta, then?" Ludwig asked, already knowing the answer.

"Si, but I don't want you to feel left out! Oh, I know!" He held his finger up with an idea. "How about you can pack the plates and the blankets?"

Germany nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"Ve, let's get started!" Italy bounced (skipped? Flounced? Germany had yet to come up with a word to accurately describe how the nation walked when he was excited) into the kitchen, leaving Germany to venture upstairs to the linen closet for a blanket. Of course, this also opened up the perfect opportunity. As soon as he had found a suitable blanket for the occasion, he went into his and Feli's room and opened the dresser drawer dedicated to the Italian. A few shirts, some pants, two dresses (don't ask) and five white flags. Ludwig smirked, seizing the flags and closing the drawer. But there were more; he could practically smell them. He checked under the mattress; three more. And one hidden in the bedside lamp, which was probably a fire hazard. He also checked _under _the dresser, and on top of the ceiling fan. Just for good measure. Luckily he didn't find any there. That would just be silly. With the flags safely stowed away in his private, locked chest, he looked in the closet and pulled out the picnic basket Feliciano insisted they keep, then headed downstairs for the silverware and such.

"Feli," He said, heading into the kitchen. "I've got the blanket and the basket, I just need the plates and silverware."

"Ve, wonderful timing!" Feliciano said delightedly. Ludwig's eyes widened when he saw him there, standing in front of the stove with his apron on. His very frilly, very flattering apron.

_ '__Don't jump him, don't jump him, don't jump him' _ The German chanted in his mind like a mantra.

"Here, taste this." Feliciano was approaching him with a spoon full of sauce, his left hand held underneath to stop it from dripping on the floor. Still a bit dazed from the whole apron thing, Ludwig dumbly accepted the spoon and tasted the sauce.

"It- it's good!" He said.

Feliciano smiled. "Fantastico! I'm almost done, then!" He walked back over to the stove and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, Ludwig, didn't you say you needed something?"

"Um, er, ja! Ja, I needed plates. Where…?"

Italy giggled. "Silly Ludwig, it's your house!"

Okay, now Germany was blushing. That just wasn't fair. He didn't _do _that! Blushing was for girls! And Matthew. And Feliciano. And sometimes Francis. "Right…" he said, heading over to the cabinet to grab the dishes and silverware. He packed them into the basket as Italy was finishing up with the pasta, packing it into little glass containers. After Matthew had made him watch some movie by one of Alfred's old presidents, Feliciano absolutely refused to use plastic for fear he might end up destroying the Earth. It sounded like a bit much, but he humored him. Soon they were all packed up and ready to go.

"To the park!" Italy announced, his hand on the front door.

"Wait!" Ludwig said. The other nation cocked his head in confusion as Ludwig ran to the bathroom and rifled around the medicine cabinet. He came back brandishing a white spray bottle. "Bug spray." He said.

"Ve-e?" Italy said questioningly. "You have mosquitoes in Germany?"

Germany smiled at the nation's surprise. "This time of year, we do. Now step outside, we don't want to do it in here." They stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind them, and Ludwig instructed the Italian to shut his eyes and hold his breath. He did, and Germany sprayed him head to toe. All was good until Feliciano couldn't hold his breath anymore, and he inhaled just a bit.

"L-Ludwig!" He cried out, beginning to panic.

"What, what is it?"

"I breathed in! I breathed in the spray, oh Ludwig am I going to die? Tell me the truth!"

Ludwig had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. The other nation looked so genuinely afraid about… about insect repellent. But he saw little beads of tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes, so he walked up to Italy and held him in his arms. "You're not going to die, Feli. A little bug spray won't kill you."

"R-really?" Feliciano asked, sniffling a bit.

"Really."

"Okay. I'm okay now."

The two stepped apart, and Ludwig bent down to look into Feliciano's eyes. "Better?" he asked.

"S-si. Better."

"Good." Ludwig said, placing a small kiss on Italy's lips that made the smaller nation smile. "Now, do me, would you?" Italy giggled, and Germany rolled his eyes. "You know what I meant." Feliciano wisely said nothing more about the other's poor choice of words as he picked up the spray bottle and thoroughly coated his fiance with the repellent, shielding him from the bloodsuckers that flew in the night. What? It sounded cooler than mosquitoes. "Now then. To the park?" Germany said, taking Italy's hand.

"To the park!" Feli said happily. They walked hand in hand to the park as the sun began to set. "Ooh, Luddy look at the pretty colors!" Feliciano exclaimed, pointing at the horizon.

"I see." Ludwig said, knowing that if he just let the Italian talk he wouldn't have to participate much in the conversation.

"Look, I see red, and orange, and yellow, and purple, and it's turning the clouds pink! Oh! I just thought of something!" He turned to Germany. "Ludwig, do you think we'll be able to see the stars tonight?"

Germany shook his head apologetically. "Nein, we are too close to the city tonight."

"Aww…"

"If you wanted, I could take you out to the countryside someday. There you could see almost all of the stars." Ludwig offered.

"Really? Oh, you're wonderful!" Feliciano said, before throwing his arms around the larger nation, stopping them both short in the middle of the sidewalk. (Ah, and that made four.)

"Ah, here we are." Ludwig said. Feliciano looked up from Ludwig's shoulder to see that they had arrived at the park they were heading toward. It was a friendly little place, with a fountain in the middle and flower bushes every so often along the pathways, though the flowers were closed for the nightime.

"Ve, it's so pretty!" Feliciano said, happily skipping over to a place beside the fountain. "Set it up here, Ludwig!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Germany said, smiling as he walked over to the spot Feli had picked and began laying out the blanket, then the food. Soon they had a little set up for them, lit by the street lamps. "Sit." Ludwig said. Feliciano obeyed, and they sat down beside each other. Feliciano took his fork, twirled it around in the pasta, (Because Italy, that's why) and took a bite. His face fell a bit.

"Feli, what's wrong?" Ludwig asked, concerned.

"It's cold…" Feliciano said simply.

Germany chuckled. "Sweetheart, you made it half an hour ago, of course it's cold."

"B-but, I made it special for you, and now it's cold, and it won't taste n-nearly as good, and-"

"Feli!" Germany interrupted him, and the Italian looked up with the familiar scared rabbit look on his face. "I'll be the judge of that, ja?" He took his fork and stuck it unceremoniously in the pasta. He had never been good at the whole twirling thing, anyway. He picked it up and pretended to study the handing noodles, managing to keep a straight face as Italy watched him anxiously. He then finally took a bite.

"Well? Does it taste good, please tell me?"

Ludwig smiled. "It tastes delicious, Feliciano. Your food always does."

"Thank goodness!" Italy sighed in relief, finally able to dig in without fearing what Ludwig might think. "Bon appetit!"

"You've been spending too much time around Matthew." Germany said playfully.

"But French is so beautiful!" Feliciano commented after taking another bite of his pasta. "Just like German. And Italian, of course."

"I'm glad you think so highly of my language." Feliciano just smiled and went in for another forkful. "Feli?"

"Hm? Si, Luddy?"

"Ich liebe dich."

Feliciano blushed, grinning widely. "Ti amo." He replied. He leaned in to put his hands on Ludwig's shoulder, and gave him long, tender kiss. "Can I tell you a secret?" He said when he pulled away, laying his head on Ludwig's chest.

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

"A part of me still thinks I must be dreaming." Feliciano said, tracing teeny circles in the grass with his finger. "To be getting married to a wonderful man like you. Sometimes I wake up and the first thing I do is check to see if you're still there, to make sure… to make sure you won't vanish when I wake up."

"Oh, Feli." Ludwig held his fiancé close, stroking his hair. "Of course I'm real, sweetheart. And I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

"I'm sorry, I'm being silly, aren't I?" Feli looked up, smiling, and reached to place a kiss on his lover's forehead. "Let's finish our pasta."

Ludwig nodded. "We can't let your hard work go to waste, now can we?"

About an hour and a half later, the two got back in the door of their home well-fed and just about ready for sleep.

"Ve, what time is it?" Feliciano asked, stifling a yawn.

Germany glanced at the clock. "It's seven thirty at night."

"Oh… it's not bedtime yet, is it?"

The larger nation shook his head. "Nein, not yet." He felt a tug on his sleeve, and looked down to see Feliciano with his hand on his arm.

"Luddy, can we just cuddle on the bed until it's time to go to sleep?"

Ludwig smiled. "Let's just wash the dishes first, alright?"

"Si! I'll wash, and you can dry!" They walked into the kitchen together and washed off the dishes, before heading up the stairs and into their bedroom. As Feli was changing into his pajamas, Ludwig noticed something sticking out of his back pocket.

"Feli." He asked. "What is that?"

"Ve? What's what?" The Italian answered cluelessly.

"That, in your back left pocket."

The smaller nation tensed, and began to ramble. "Er, n-nothing, nothing at all, why would I have anything in my back pocket, anyway? They're so hard to reach, they really should just make the front pockets bigger and- no, wait don't!" Ludwig had stood from the bed, and triumphantly pulled from the pocket… a little white flag. It had no pole, and could easily have been excused as a handkerchief, but Germany knew better.

"Feli, what was the deal?" He asked sternly.

Italy lowered his eyes to the floor and sighed. "No white flags for one week…" He watched as Ludwig opened his chest and put it in with the other white flags. "You- you found them all!?" He gasped in surprise.

Germany chuckled. "I know you well, Feli. You _and_ all your little hiding spots." He took the smaller nation's hand, leading him into the bed. "But just think; only one week of this, and you'll have your very own kitten, to have and to hold."

"Right." Italy said. "For the kitten, then."

"For the kitten." Ludwig looked over at the clock again. "Ah, you've gotten your wish; it's time for bed." He pulled the covers over both of them, and reached to turn out both lamps. "Guten nacht, mein liebe." He said, placing a gentle kiss on Feli's lips.

"Buoananotte, amore mio." Feli replied.


	5. Lesson 4: Compromise is Key Part 2

**Author's note: Ahahaha, I told you it was too long for one chapter! There'll be one of these for every day of Feliciano's mission, so that means you're getting a lot of GerIta, folks. "But Plumcot!" You may ask. "Don't you write RusCan?" Don't worry little one. I write many, many pairings, and I couldn't seem to restrict myself to just one for this fic. You'll be getting some Spamano soon as well, if you were wondering. Anyway, read on, and please review! It makes my day!**

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The next morning, Italy awoke with his arms wrapped around his fiancé, his head buried in his chest.

"Guten morgen, sleeping beauty." Ludwig said, apparently having been awake for some time now.

"Ve, I'm sorry Ludwig! How long have you been awake?"

"Only a minute or so, don't worry."

"Oh… good morning, then!"

Ludwig smiled. "Good morning. Breakfast?"

"Pasta!" Feliciano replied automatically.

"We had pasta last night, Feli. And besides, pasta is a dinner food."

Feliciano's face scrunched up in thought. "Hmm… what about eggs?"

"And sausage?" Germany suggested.

"Great idea! Okay, let's go!" Italy hopped out of bed, prompting the larger nation to throw the covers off and get up with him. A few hours later, the two sat happily at their dining table, eating the breakfast Ludwig had made. "This is delicious!" Italy raved as he dug in happily. Germany smiled. A compliment on your cuisine from the Italian was high praise, after all. "Oh, Ludwig, do you know what we're doing today?" Feli asked absentmindedly.

Ludwig glanced at the calendar. "You'll be happy, Feli; today is the day we're going out to eat with Ivan and Matthew."

"Ve-e? Already?" Ludwig nodded. "Ah, time flies when you're having fun, right?"

"We don't have to leave for a few hours, though, so we have time to relax." The two did just that, washing dishes at a leisurely pace together, and falling into a discussion about video games before it was time to leave.

"I like the first person shooters the best." Feli remarked as he grabbed his shoes. "Alfred showed me this one called Half Life, and it's really fun! Oh, but I also really like Harvest Moon! It's this game Kiku made where-" This is where Ludwig checked out a bit. The only video game he'd ever really played was his old flight simulator, and this really wasn't his area. So he resorted to nodding and offering words of acknowledgement from time to time, biding his time until the conversation drifted into easier territory. It was actually not half bad just listening to him talk. And the Italian was perfectly content to carry on his one-sided conversation. So he regretted it just a teeny bit when they pulled into the parking space.

"Here we are." Ludwig announced, stepping out of the car and opening Feliciano's door for him.

"Thank you, Ludwig!" Feliciano said cheerily, before scanning the area around them eagerly. They were parked in front of one of Germany's favorite restaurants in Berlin, a good way away from either of the other nation's houses. It was possible they'd have to wait for their friends a little longer.

"Feliciano!" Italy grinned when he saw Matthew approaching from down the sidewalk, his hand in Ivan's. He greeted him with the customary overenthusiastic hug, and the trio headed inside to the restaurant.

"Ve, Matthew! I have lovely news!" Feliciano said when they were seated.

"What's that?" Canada asked.

"Ludwig's getting me a kitten!" Of course. Ludwig should have known the conversation would head there eventually.

"Really?" Matthew said happily. "That's so nice of him!"

"Not quite." Ludwig said. "Feli has forgotten to mention one tiny detail."

"Oh? What's that?"

Feliciano sighed. "Luddy made me a deal…" He started.

"A deal?" The Russian said, leaning in to hear the rest. "Most intriguing. Carry on."

"I can have my very own kitten, if I can go one week without my white flags."

Ivan laughed out loud, startling the Italian. "Ludwig, you're a mastermind! How long do you think he'll last?"

"I don't know." Ludwig said smiling. "This one is tougher than he looks." Of course, he was secretly _really hoping _that he wouldn't actually have to get Feli a kitten. But he also wasn't about to let his little Italian get made fun of.

"Ivan, stop that! It isn't nice." Matthew chided, his hand on his boyfriends shoulder. Ivan immediately softened, and gave a short nod to Feliciano which was probably the closest to an apology the nation would ever offer.

"Ve, it's alright! Besides, I don't know if I'm brave enough to last a whole week anyway…"

"But imagine if you did!" Matthew said, already beginning to look dreamy. "It's been a long time since I've seen a kitten…" He turned to hopefully to Ivan.

"Ohh, no." Ivan said, instantly catching the younger nation's drift. "We already have one furry beast in the house."

"Kumawara is not a furry beast! Well, he's furry, but- anyway, what do you have against animals?"

"In case you have not noticed, animals and I do not mix well."

"You can't base that off _just _Kuma! He's… touchy."

"Touchy? That is what you call touchy? Only yesterday, he-"

"Ahem." They all looked up to see a waitress standing over them, standing awkwardly with a memopad in one hand. There was silence for a moment, as they all wondered how much of the conversation she must have heard. Then she said something in German, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Ludwig ordered for them all, and by the time he was done the earlier conversation had thankfully been forgotten.

"So, Matthew, what have you been up to?" Germany asked.

"Oh, that's right! You'll never guess what Ivan did for me!" Matthew said, smiling. "He took me to a hockey game!" Germany noticed Ivan flinch slightly at the mention of 'hockey'. Yeah; he knew the feeling.

"Really? Was it good?" Feliciano asked.

"Hell yeah, it was! We pounded those losers into the ground like the bastards they were, eh!"

"Matvey!" Russia said.

"What?"

"Indoor voice."

"Oh…" Matthew seemed to come back to himself as he shrank back into his chair, and apologized in his usual whisper. "Sorry about that…"

"Ve, it's alright." Italy reassured him. "I can sometimes get the same way about football!"

"Football? Really?" Canada said, leaning over the table attentively.

"Mm hm! Oh, but not American football; I mean the _real _kind!"

Canada chuckled at the distinction. "I don't really know much about football, though."

"Oh, I can explain it to you! You see-" He proceeded to explain the entire game, rule for rule, position for position. Germany smiled fondly at the smaller nation as he watched him talk to his friend. He hazarded a glance at Russia, and found he was casting a similar gaze over Canada. Look at them; two powerful nations, the names of which were once feared, (and still are, depending on who you ask) wrapped around the fingers of a shy little mouse and a grown man with the enthusiasm and naivety of a five-year old. To be honest, he didn't mind at all. And he was sure Ivan felt the same way.

"How did he get you to agree to a kitten?" The question broke Germany's train of thought.

"Puppy dog eyes." He answered. Ivan grunted in understanding, rolling his eyes. "You get them too?" Ludwig asked.

Ivan chuckled. "You have no idea." He took a bite of his food, and then looked back up to pose another question. "Does your brother mind?"

"Erm…" Ludwig hadn't actually thought of that. For the past couple of days Gilbert had been off on business, (replace "on business" with "screwing around and probably getting drunk off his ass", and you have what Prussia was most likely actually doing) and to be honest, whenever his brother left Ludwig liked to do his best to forget he existed, given that was hard to do when he was actually around. Come to think of it, he didn't know what Prussia would think of a kitten in the house. The question was, did he care? "Even if he doesn't approve, my brother can deal with it." He finally said. There. That was that.

"Ve, our food's here!" Everyone turned in the direction Feli was looking, and sure enough their food had arrived. They all ate contentedly, talking about whatever crossed their minds. And when their plates were clean and their bellies were full, Germany and Russia split the check and they all left the restaurant together. "That was delicious!" Italy exclaimed, smiling happily as they walked out the door.

"It really was!" Matthew agreed. "It might have been better with maple syrup, but…"

Ivan laughed affectionately and wrapped an arm around his lover, pulling him closer and earning a blush from the younger nation. "I'm sure, Matvey." He said.

"Ludwig, where do we go next?" Italy asked.

Ludwig thought. They hadn't actually planned on going anywhere else after the restaurant, but from the looks of Matthew and Feliciano, they weren't nearly done with their day together. "Well, I suppose we could drive back to our house for a while." Both Matthew and Feliciano lit up at the prospect.

"Ivan, can we?" Matthew asked hopefully.

"I don't see why not."

"Hooray!" Feliciano rejoiced. "We can have an impromptu movie night!"

"That's a great idea!" Canada agreed. "Well, what are we waiting for, eh? Let's go!" Each couple took their respective cars and drove back to Italy and Germany's house, where Italy and Canada quickly got to searching Netflix together.

"Ve, what about this one?" Feliciano said, pointing to a movie on the screen.

Matthew turned to see him pointing to the cover for 'Silence of the Lambs'. "Um, F-Feliciano? I don't think that's a very good idea…"

"Why not?" Italy asked, cocking his head curiously.

"Well, it's really very scary…"

"Ohh." Italy said, understanding. He scrolled off the page, and they went back to looking.

"Ooh!" Canada exclaimed when one movie in particular caught his eye. "The Notebook! Ivan, can we-"

"Nyet." The larger nation cut him off. Matthew sighed dejectedly and went back to scrutinizing the selections with Feliciano. "Do you think they'll ever find something?" Russia whispered to Germany.

"I honestly don't know." Germany replied. "I think they're just having fun searching together."

"Guys, how about this one?" Matthew called. The two nations looked up at the screen to see the cover for 'Batman Begins'.

"Er, Feli? Are you sure you can handle it?" Germany asked.

"Ve, of course Ludwig! It's not even rated R!"

The larger nation shrugged. "Okay, I suppose. Ivan?" He turned to Russia, who gave a consenting look. "Turn it on, then." Matthew started the movie, and he and Feliciano both practically dove onto the couch to cuddle with their respective boyfriends as the opening sequence started. Germany, to be honest, was still kind of worried that it would be too intense for the sensitive Feliciano. But he was both relieved and amused when the Italian seemed to absolutely love the movie, along with Canada who seemed as into it as he was. They actually got rather vocal about it…

"Agh, idiota! He's crazy, why are you listening to him?!" Feliciano shouted at the screen.

"No, no no no! You stupid bâtard!" This was actually the last thing Matthew said in English the entire movie, as after this he resorted to shouting angrily in French. When the film was over, Italy and Canada both jumped up and commenced fangirling.

"Ve, that was fantastico!" Italy exclaimed.

"I know, eh! Ivan, what did you think?"

"I think that that Bruce man was being a fool most of the movie. How many women can you take to a party before people stop respecting you?"

"Ja, and what was even the point of Ra's al Ghul? They really only needed one villain…"

"You just don't know cinematic masterpieces when you see them." Matthew dismissed them before going back to talking with Feliciano.

"I hate to interrupt, but we need to get back home." Ivan said, standing.

Matthew looked at him in dismay. "Aww, but why?"

The larger nation raised an eyebrow. "We left Kumajirou alone in the house."

"Oh… but Katyusha's watching him!"

This only caused the eyebrow to go up further. "Like I said, we left Kumajirou alone in the house."

"Oui, I suppose you're right." The smaller nation conceded with a sigh. "We've gotta go, guys."

"Ve? But we were having so much fun!" Italy's eyes suddenly lit up, and he turned back to Ludwig. "Luddy, how about we drive with them to the airport?"

Ludwig looked to Ivan for approval, and when he got a nod from the Russian, they all set out to pile into Ivan's car. Feliciano and Matthew were put in the back together so they could continue their enthusiastic conversation about the movie, which left Ivan driving and Ludwig in the passenger's seat.

"Ludwig." Germany was startled just a bit when Ivan addressed him.

"Ja?" He answered.

"Your wedding. When is the date?"

Oh. What a surprisingly normal question. "Ten months from now, in May."

"Why so long?" Russia asked, confused.

Germany chuckled. "You've never planned a wedding, have you?"

Russia shook his head. "There has never before been anyone I would want to be tied to like that."

Something about the phrasing made it sound like there was a 'but' just beneath that sentence. "And now?" Germany prodded gently.

Ivan smiled. "Now, I am not so sure of that." There was a brief moment of silence before he apparently decided to continue. "Before Matvey, my life was all about fear. The other countries, the Baltics, even my sisters; if people feared me, they would stay away from me, and I would not get hurt. But then he came into my life and showed me that there could be so much more. I am still not sure if I deserve him, but I would not give him up for the world." Ludwig smiled back. That was definitely something he could understand.

By the time they reached the airport, it was just beginning to get dark, hints of darker blues and purples creeping over the sky. Ludwig realized now that the two nations in the back had been awfully quiet for a while. He turned to see what was the matter, and had to stop himself from laughing out loud. He tapped on Ivan's shoulder to get him to take a look too, and the Russian smiled also at the sight. Matthew and Feliciano had fallen asleep, Feli's head resting on Matthew's shoulder, and Matthew's head resting on that of the smaller nation. Ludwig smiled fondly at them for a moment before remembering that they couldn't sleep there forever. He sighed, and reached over to shake Matthew's shoulder, hoping he could spare Feliciano the trip out of dreamland.

"Whuh- huh…?" Matthew said groggily as his eyes fluttered open. Ludwig made a shushing motion and gestured to the sleeping Italian under him. Matthew gave an understanding look and proceeded to Indiana-Jones his way out of the car and into the airport. Once he and his Russian were out of the vehicle, they waved to Ludwig, who waved back and started on the car ride back to his and Feli's house. When they got home, Ludwig opened the car door and picked Feliciano up carefully, ducking him out of the car and in through the front door. He actually whacked his head a bit on the doorjamb, and flinched, waiting for him to wake up; luckily for him, though, Feliciano happens to be a very heavy sleeper. He sighed in relief and continued up the stairs to their bedroom, laying him on the bed. He considered briefly whether he should try wrestling him into pajamas, but he finally decided to leave well enough alone and tucked them both under the covers before turning out the lamp.


	6. Lesson 4: Compromise is Key Part 3

**Author's Note: Hi, guys! So, reading my reviews I got a request to write about Independence Day, which would take some wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey tricks, but... I can try? *laughs* This whole kitten thing is already set in past tense anyway... am I confusing you yet? The problem is, even though America is my all time favorite character, I don't have much experience writing him. But sure, after the "Soft Kitty" arc I'll give it my best shot! ^_^**

**Chapter Summary: Feliciano wakes up to find Ludwig headed off for a business meeting. Bored and alone, the Italian decides to dig out his easel and head to the park to paint. The trip there goes well, it's the way back that doesn't quite go as planned...**

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Feliciano awoke the next morning to the unwelcome sensation of sunlight falling across his face, trying to coax him up out of bed. He whined and rolled over in the bed, hoping to snuggle into his favorite German, hiding his eyes from the sun and getting at least a half hour more of sleep. But when he did, he found nothing but air and an empty mattress. He sat up reluctantly and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Luddy?" he questioned. Where had Ludwig gone off to?

His questions were answered when Ludwig came through the door, his clothes on and a toothbrush still in his mouth. "Ah'm sorry, ah din' wan' to wake hyou." He said, his words coming out a bit garbled around the brush.

"Luddy, what's wrong, do you need to go somewhere?" Feliciano asked, confused.

Ludwig held up a finger for him to wait just a moment, then ran back into the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste. He came back into the room with an apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry, mein liebe. I completely forgot I have a business meeting this morning."

Feliciano's face fell. "You mean I'll be alone all day?" He asked.

"Nein, nein, don't worry. I'll be back before lunch. You can wait until then, ja?"

Feliciano nodded. "Si, I'll be alright. Have fun on your trip, alright?" He said, putting on a brave smile.

Ludwig smiled back and planted a kiss on the Italian's forehead. "I'll try. Goodbye, Feli. I'll see you very soon."

"Bye, Luddy!" And just like that, Ludwig was out the door, and Feliciano could hear the sound of his car starting. He sighed, and looked around the room. Now he was all alone, with nothing to do. Well that just wouldn't do, would it? His first instinct was to jump to the phone. He quickly dialed Matthew's number, and waited as the phone rang.

"Feliciano?" Matthew finally picked up.

"Ve, Matthew! I'm so glad you picked up!"

"Um, yeah, what is it?"

"Well, Ludwig left this morning for a business meeting, and I have nothing to do now so I was wondering-"

He was cut off by the Canadian, which is very rare, I assure you. "Um, I'm sorry, but we were kind of in the middle of some-_THING, _I-Ivan! Not now! Ahem, sorry about that. M-maybe you could call back later?"

Feliciano's eyebrows knitted together. "What are you doing? Can I help?"

"Oh, um, no I really don't think so- eep! I, um, I'm sorrybutIreallyhavetogonowbye!" The phone call was ended just like that.

"What do I do now?" Feliciano asked himself out loud. Well, he reasoned, what did he used to do before he met Germany? "Ve, that's right!" He said, launching his finger in the air with triumph. "I haven't painted anything in ages!" So it was decided. He stood from the bed, ready to get himself dressed, and realized he was still in his clothes from the other day. Oh right… he smiled to himself, thinking of what Ludwig must have looked like carrying him into the house. And come to think of it, what was that annoying little dull ache on the side of his head? It was easy enough to ignore, though, and he stepped over to his closet to pick out an outfit for the day. At first he found his eyes gravitating toward the green dress and complementary apron, but he'd need something he didn't mind getting messy, and that; that was special. Eventually he picked out a pair of dark slacks and a mint green button-up, and pulled them on before gathering his art supplies.

Feliciano's art supplies lived in the bottom of the closet, in a suitcase that had been collecting dust for years now. He blew over the top and sneezed at the cloud he had created. Gosh, he hadn't used these in a long time. Not since… well, honestly not since Holy Rome… he shook that thought firmly out of his head, and after a trip to the basement to grab his easel and canvas, he was out the door and on his way to the park. He could have painted indoors, of course, but nothing compares to a good landscape. Walking down the sidewalk, he was suddenly startled by the sound of a dog barking loudly. He flinched, ready to be attacked, but relaxed when he saw it was safely kept inside a fenced yard. He gave a little breath of relief and kept walking. Eventually he reached the park he and Ludwig had picnicked at the other night. It really looked different in the daytime, with children playing and dogs barking. He could see much more of the park too, including a lovely, shimmering lake just beyond their little picnic spot. He smiled to himself as he made his way over to the lakefront, and set up his easel just ten or so feet from the water. "Alright! Here we go!" He said to himself excitedly, before picking up his pallet and brush and making the first mark on the canvas.

It came back like riding a bicycle. A stroke here, a swoosh there, a light dab just at the edge of that… it was second nature to him. Maybe that's why he had so much trouble teaching Holy Rome how to paint? Feliciano was never good at processes, he dealt in _feelings. _Poor Gabriel… he always thought his paintings were horrible! And sure, he was no Da Vinci, (not that Da Vinci had been born yet) but Feli had always loved his art. Just the fact that he took an interest in something Feli loved so much meant the world to him. Come to think of it, around then Gabriel had still thought he was a girl. Even by the end, he didn't think he had ever figured it out… it hurt, to be honest, thinking that perhaps Holy Rome might have felt differently if he'd known his true gender.

Back in the present day, Feliciano brought himself out of his train of thought, bringing his attention back to his art. _"Oh,"_ he thought, looking down at a dark spot over one of the painted trees. _"There's some water on the canvas_." Only when another drop fell on the nearly-finished lake did he realize where it was coming from. He wiped the tears with his sleeve, smiling sadly to himself. _"Silly Feliciano… it's been ages. Why would you go crying about that again?"_ He put the finishing touches on the painting and drew his brush away. A job well done. It was a little darker than he should have made it, but perhaps he just hadn't mixed the colors enough. He packed up the easel, grabbed the suitcase, and finally the canvas, careful not to touch the still-drying paint. It was time to go home.

He had apparently spent much more time at the park than he had intended to, as the sun told him it was at least an hour or so past noon. Or it would have, had Italy not been useless at such things and had to check the watch Ludwig had given him. It was two thirty in the afternoon. "Oh no!" He exclaimed to himself as he walked. "Luddy said he would be back by lunch! He's probably waiting, I have to hurry!" He broke into a quick trot, not able to run out of consideration of his delicate cargo. He was almost home free when a familiar barking caught his attention. "_He's behind a fence, he can't hurt me. He's behind a fence, he can't hurt me." _Feliciano chanted to himself in his mind. He set himself on walking quickly past the yard so he could get home.

And that would have been a wonderful plan, had the dog not chosen that exact moment to run around to the other side of its yard, and squeeze, with much effort, through a hole underneath the fence. Now that he had a clear view of it, the dog looked to be some kind of shepherd, and boy did it seem mean. Now he saw why the owners kept it fenced in. The dog looked at him. Feliciano looked at the dog. The dog growled. Feliciano ran.

"D-dio mi salvi!" He cried as he broke out into full speed, off down the sidewalk. He ran as fast as he could, thanking all the gods he knew that Ludwig had insisted on him running at least once a week for training purposes. The suitcase and canvas rattled against each other, both threatening to slip out of his hand, but he didn't dare slow down; the dog was still behind him, barking madly and catching up fast. _"White flag, white flag, white flag!" _Italy chanted in his head, regretting for all he was worth that he had made that silly deal. In reality a flag wouldn't have done much in this situation. Maybe he could have thrown it at the dog and distracted it? But nonetheless, not being able to go with his first instinct just stressed him out more. He practically flew down the sidewalk and right past the front door of his and Ludwig's house, but he kept on running, for fear he would be ripped to pieces if he stopped. He couldn't keep going like this forever, though, he needed to do _something! _His mind raced as fast as it ever had, searching for a way he could get out of this.

"Feliciano?" Wait… who had just said his name? Feliciano turned his head to see a car driving at a leisurely pace beside him. And who was in that car, but the awesome Prussia, who Italy had never been happier to see in his life. "The hell are you doing?" Gilbert asked, still driving alongside him.

"I, I'm running," Feliciano answered shakily, his breath labored from running and talking at the same time. "From that dog!"

"Ohh." Prussia said, seeming to notice the dog for the first time. "I guess I should help, huh?"

"Si! Si, aiutare! Please!" Feliciano cried desperately.

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be good if the awesome me got his clothes all ripped up from some dog, huh?" Feliciano's expression turned, then, from one of desperate hope to one of pure despair. He's really a very expressive man, Feliciano. "Alright, alright. Gimme a sec." Gilbert parked the car on the side of the road and got out, stepping right in between the dog and Feliciano as the Italian hid behind his back. He threw his arms in the air, stood on his toes, and yelled. _Loud. _"BACK! BACK, GET OUTTA HERE!" The dog cowered for a moment, then ran back in the direction of its yard.

"Ohh, grazie, Gilbert! Grazie grazie grazie!" He thanked the larger nation profusely, hugging him around the middle.

"It was nothing the awesome me couldn't handle!" Gilbert said proudly.

"Oh!" Feliciano said, having forgotten something important. "I have to get home, Ludwig's waiting for me!"

"Ditto for me. Hop in, I'll give you a ride."

Feliciano looked confused. "Ve? But our house is only a few blocks away…"

"Are you saying you don't want a ride in the car of awesome?"

Well… a car of awesome did sound like a pretty cool thing to get a ride in. "Alright, then!" Gilbert ducked into the car, Feliciano along with him.

Back at the house, Ludwig was pacing nervously around the living room. He had gotten back at around one, and found Feli missing. Of course he had expected the Italian to wander off somewhere, but he had gotten home later than expected, then waited for more than an hour and he still wasn't back. He glanced at the phone, seriously considering calling the authorities. Just then, though, the door opened, and in walked Feliciano… and Gilbert.

"Luddy!" Feliciano cried, promptly glomping a very relieved Germany.

"Bruder!" Gilbert followed suite, though his hug was considerably less welcome.

"Feli, where were you?" Ludwig said, ignoring the over-affectionate albino who was almost certainly just trying to annoy him. "I was getting worried!"

"I'm sorry, Luddy! You left and I had nothing to do so I called Matthew but he said he was busy so I decided to go painting but I didn't wear the green dress because I didn't want to mess it up and I went totheparkandpaintedthelakebutwhenIwaswalkinghomeascarydogcameandchasedmebutGilbertsavedmeanddrovemehomesopleasedon'tbemadatme!" He said, his words blending into each other as his speed increased near the end of the sentence. Ludwig's head spun trying to figure out what he might have said. Honestly, all he had caught was that last part, as those particular words tended to become easy to pick out after living with Feli long enough.

"As long as you're okay, Feli, I'm not mad at you." He said reassuringly. Feli threw his arms back around the German, and stayed there.

"Hey, you guys are forgetting something!" Gilbert said, having been pushed out of the group hug. "The awesome me is back! That's cause for celebration!"

Ludwig groaned. He was really hoping Gilbert would have stayed gone.

"Oh, yes!" Italy suddenly said, lifting his head from Germany's shoulder. He walked back to the side of the door, and picked up the painting, which had managed to remain undamaged the entire time he was running. "I painted this! Ludwig, what do you think?"

Ludwig smiled as he looked the painting over. It was the lake in the park near their house, that was obvious. But there was one special little detail… Feli had added in a depiction of them, near the lakeside. They were sitting on the grass together, holding hands and looking out over the water. "It's beautiful, Feli." He said. "I haven't seen you paint in a while."

Feliciano looked confused. "Ve? Silly Ludwig, you've never seen me paint before! I'm glad you like it, though." That's right… Ludwig had seen some of Feliciano's old paintings, but he knew there hadn't been any new ones in years. Where had that come from, then?

"Hey West, there's like _nothing _in the fridge. What the hell?" Philosophizing would have to wait, though. He had a Gilbert to do something about.

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**Author's Note: I think I may have broken my record for longest continuous paragraph... that is all. :P**


	7. Lesson 4: Compromise is Key Part 4

**Author's Note: *reads reviews* Ah, you guys make my day every time I see a new one! Makes a gal feel super-special! Oh, and Girl w 2 Hearts? I am sooo using your idea. It looks like you aren't a member so I can't PM you, but... does that really show through that much in my writing? I hadn't noticed anything, but on that note, thank you very much for your concern, *bows* but there's no need to worry about me! It warms my heart, though, to know there are people out there who have never even met me but still care enough to notice these things! ^_^ Anyway, on to the story...**

**Chapter Summary: Gilbert is back, Feliciano is gullible as usual, and Ludwig isn't happy about any of it. However, he's treated to an effective, but not necessarily welcome distraction when an uninvited guest decides to drop in during breakfast...**

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Ludwig fought hard to keep himself from scowling openly as he set breakfast on the table in front of Gilbert and Feli.

"Ve, thank you Ludwig! This looks delicious!" Feliciano said before digging in. Ludwig smiled at his lover, then looked pointedly at Gilbert.

"What?" Gilbert asked when he noticed his brother staring at him. Ludwig just grumbled and sat down beside them. This was going to be a long day. After Prussia had come home yesterday, Germany and Italy had been treated to multiple conflicting stories of how he had spent his business trip. Germany's favorite was that he had ended up saving five people, including Egypt, from a burning building, and won free beer for life only to turn it down because he was just that selfless. The worst part was that Feli seemed to believe him, hanging on his every word. Of course Ludwig knew that the albino had probably just spent his time drinking and making an ass of himself, but who was he to ruin Feliciano's enjoyment?

"Did you really solve world hunger all on your own?" Feliciano asked over the eggs.

"You bet your ass I did!" Prussia said, taking a bite of his sausage and speaking through the mouthful. "But I lost the paper I wrote it down on in the fire, see?"

"Ohh, I see." Feliciano said.

"Something that important, I would think you'd have it memorized?" Ludwig challenged, just to see how far his brother was willing to go.

Prussia hesitated for a moment. "Well, I- what was that?"

"What was what?" Ludwig asked.

"That weird scuffling noise coming from the ceiling, what was it?"

Ludwig frowned. In truth, he had no idea what it was. It had started a few days ago, but he and Feli had simply attributed it to the house settling, and gotten more or less used to it. But now that Gilbert mentioned it, it was a little too frequent to be nothing but a symptom of an old abode. Suddenly the noise came again, louder than the first time. "West, if your house is haunted, that would be… actually, I'm not sure if that would be awesome or not-awesome."

"I'd better check." Germany said, grumbling as he stood to… he didn't know what. How was he planning to look in the ceiling, anyway? The decision was made for him, though, as a portion of the ceiling promptly fell on the table with a crash, plaster and rubble flying everywhere. Everyone's eyes were wide as they looked at the culprit; a very stunned squirrel, who currently looked like it was scanning the room for an escape route.

"Ve, it's a squirrel! It's so cute!" Italy said happily when he realized what had just happened.

"Wait, Feli don't!" It was too late. Feliciano reached out to pet the creature, and he had just enough time to shout 'ouch' before the squirrel was gone, and his finger was bleeding, and the corners of his eyes were beginning to tear up. "L-Ludwig!" He sobbed. "It bit me!"

"What did you think it would do?" Ludwig said exasperatedly as he went over to examine the Italian's wound. It wasn't too deep, but they shouldn't take any chances. "Come on, let's go get a bandage."

"What the holy hell was that!?" Prussia shouted. Germany jumped, having all but forgotten about his brother in the commotion after the crash.

"What did it look like? We have a squirrel in our house." He said as he searched the cabinet for band-aids.

"But we've gotta do something about it, right?"

"Yes, we do. We're going to call pest control and wait until they can get here."

"Ohh, no." Gilbert said. Ludwig looked up to face his brother, and saw a familiar look in his eyes. Oh great; he had an idea. "We're not paying some shmuck to do what we could do for free ourselves!"

"Luddy, what's he talking about?" Italy asked as the bandage was being wrapped around his finger.

"The idiot wants to catch the squirrel himself."

"Hell yeah I do! And shut up, I'm no idiot." Prussia was standing up now, a determined look in his eyes and a smile on his face. "Come on, guys! With the awesome me leading us, and maybe a little help from you, we can do this!"

"No, we can not. It is dangerous and reckless and we'll leave it to the professionals."

"Really?" Gilbert said, stepping closer to look Ludwig in the eyes. "You're afraid of a _squirrel? _The man whose name was once feared worldwide is now reduced to cowering from a rodent?" Ludwig grimaced. That was a low blow, and his brother knew it. "So?" Prussia continued. "Are you a man, or are you a mouse?"

"I'm a man, but-" Prussia cut him off.

"So it's settled! Feliciano, go get a bucket and a rope! Ludwig, you go get some bread! It is _on!"_

"Wait! No, I…" Ludwig trailed off as he realized the others already seemed to have decided, with Feliciano rushing to the toolshed and Gilbert scribbling something on a spare piece of paper. He was going to regret letting these idiots (one of whom he loved dearly, but was realistically still an idiot) walk all over him.

About half an hour and some balancing acts later, the three would-be squirrel catchers were hiding behind a corner in waiting. There was a rope in Feliciano's hands. The rope looped up and over Germany's pull-up bar, (what? Sometimes a man needs something to do while he's waiting for the oven!) and was tied to a bucket with the open end pointed toward the ground, with a piece of bread underneath it. A trail of crumbs led out in either direction, to make sure it would be found no matter where the squirrel happened to be.

"This is so going to work!" Gilbert whispered harshly as watched their trap in anticipation.

"This is never going to work." Ludwig mumbled.

"Ve, there it is!" Both nations snapped at Feliciano's words, and turned quickly to see where he was looking. The squirrel had indeed arrived. It was making its way carefully down the bread trail, picking up crumb after crumb and eating them nervously. "Now?" Feliciano asked.

"Nein, not yet." Ludwig answered. The squirrel's trip seemed to last an eternity.

"Now?"

"Not quite, Feli." The Italian was starting to fidget restlessly. Patience was never his strong suit. Now the squirrel was almost under the bucket, about a centimeter away from being theirs.

"NOW!" Gilbert suddenly shouted. Feliciano let go of the rope and the bucket fell on top of their quarry, trapping it. The three rushed over to contain it, but before they could the bucket started moving violently, and they hesitated, unsure if they should get near it. "Come on, what are you guys afraid of?" Prussia finally said bravely, lunging to press down the top of the bucket. "It's just a- EEYAH!" The squirrel had chosen that exact moment to fly out of the bucket, clawing its way up Prussia's uniform. "CLAWS! CLAWS CLAWS CLAWS!"

"Hold on, bruder!" Germany shouted.

He grabbed for the broom in the corner and reared it back, but Italy held onto his arm as if for dear life, shouting, "No, Ludwig! Please don't hurt it!" That made the German hesitate just enough for the squirrel to scramble its way, claws and all, up Prussia's face and onto the top of his head. When it realized it had nowhere left to go, it jumped off of the albino and skittered across the floor out of the kitchen. "I'll get it, I'll get it!" Feliciano yelled as he took off clumsily after the rodent.

"Oh gott." Ludwig muttered to himself as he took off in equal speed. Feliciano could not do this on his own. He ignored Gilbert's cries of 'hey, what about me?' as he ran through the spacious house, following his fiancé and the squirrel through the foyer. He nearly tripped on the rug, which bunched up under his feet as he scrambled for the staircase.

"Come back! I'm not going to hurt you, I'm just going to catch you!" Feliciano yelled after the squirrel. After running up the stairs and through the hallway, they found themselves in their bathroom, with the shaking squirrel cornered in the bathtub. "It's okay, I'm going to take you back to your friends!" Feliciano said, as he moved toward the squirrel with what he hoped was a reassuring smile on his face. But then, it was a squirrel, and reassuring smiles don't mean much to squirrels. It jumped at him like it had Prussia, and Italy had just enough time to look surprised before Germany, in one fluid movement, pulled the shower curtain down and bundled the squirrel in it midair. The two nations looked blankly for a moment at the struggling sack in Germany's hand.

"Hey, guys! You got it!" They both looked at the doorway to see Gilbert, his face red with scratch marks. "With help from the awesome me, of course. Hey, what's so funny?" The others had broken out laughing. Feliciano because he was Feliciano, and Ludwig from the sheer absurdity of it all. Here was Germany, the mighty nation, putting all of his efforts into capturing a single squirrel. And he didn't find that the least demeaning, to tell the truth.

"We…" He said, trying to catch his breath. "We had better get it outside. These things have strong teeth, I don't want it getting out." They all followed Ludwig to the front yard, where the sack was opened and the squirrel rushed out into the grass, climbing up the nearest available tree and hopefully staying there.

"Ve, that was fun!" Feliciano exclaimed as they were walking back into the house.

"You should talk." Gilbert grumbled. "You're not the one who got his awesome face ruined!"

"It was your idea to catch it in the first place." Ludwig pointed out.

"Yeah, whatever." Prussia looked up at the clock. "Hey! We did all that and it's not even lunch yet!" He said.

Ludwig pressed his hand to his temple, hoping to stave off the inevitable headache. "How productive of us." He said sarcastically. "But what are we going to do about the ceiling?"


	8. Lesson 4: Compromise is Key Part 5

**Author's Note: Hey, guys! I have news! I'm up on Archive of Our Own, writing on a joint account with a friend of mine. We're under the pen name EmilCosantoir, so you should check us out! Heh, see if you can guess which one I am...**

**In other news, you guys continue to make my day by reviewing. :) Larissita, your comment wasn't annoying at all, I assure you! Your English is great, and the information you gave was actually quite fascinating. I had no idea who Yuri Gagarin was until you left that review! But... I'm pretty sure Neil Armstrong landed on the moon in 1969. Unless, of course, it's all a big conspiracy and they never even made it to the moon... XD **

**Chapter Summary: Ludwig is gone again to yet another business meeting, and Feliciano is bored and lonely. The solution? Visit his fratello! But one thing leads to another, and the Italian ends up learning the importance of knocking the hard way...**

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Ludwig spent the rest of the day standing on a stepladder, craning his neck at odd angles to repair the ceiling while Prussia made himself of no use, and Italy offered moral support. Luckily for him he got it done before bed, especially since as soon as lunch was over and done with the next day, he had to leave for another meeting. He kissed his fiancé on his way out the door, and was gone. Just like that.

Feliciano sighed as he leaned against the doorway, watching him drive off. "Goodbye…" He muttered to himself. He nearly fell down the steps, though, when he felt a strong hand clap him on the back. He looked up to see Gilbert, standing behind him.

"He'll be back, don't worry." Gilbert said, in what might have been meant to be a comforting voice. Honestly, Feli was just really flattered that the Prussian cared enough to even try, and he sent a smile his way.

"Thank you Gilbert. I just hate when he has to leave, you know? And- where are you going?" The Italian furrowed his brow in confusion as Gilbert hopped past him and down the steps, climbing into his own car.

"Where do you think?" Gilbert said from behind his steering wheel. "I'm off to the pub with Francis! It's boring here without Ludwig around to torture! See ya later!" He pulled out of the driveway, and soon drove out of sight. Feliciano sighed. He hated being alone. Absolutely abhorred it. It was in his nature to be around people, to want to talk to people and make them laugh. He couldn't just mope around by himself all day! But what could he do? He didn't entirely want to paint by himself either, though that would be a step up from just moping.

"Ve, I know!" He said aloud to himself. "I'll visit fratello!" And so it was decided. He left out the door and entered the garage, hopping into his cherry-red convertible. (What? He's Italian.) Soon he was off to Antonio's house.

Ever since Lovino and Antonio had started dating, the one constant was that Lovino would consistently and vehemently deny that there was any kind of romance at all between him and the Spaniard. But if the stolen glances and "discreet" kisses didn't give it away, it was obvious when Lovino started spending so much time at Antonio's that it couldn't really be called anything other than moving in. Of course, he still denied it. He said, over and over again that he was going to go back to the house the next day. The day after that. The day after that. Of course, it never happened. Feliciano supposed their house must have fallen into disrepair by then, or at least be in serious need of a good dusting. But why worry about that when both he and his brother had found such happiness? He pulled up in front of Antonio's house, parking in the driveway and stepping out of the car. Humming happily, he walked to the front door and knocked. No answer.

"Ve, Lovino! It's your fratello!" He shouted through the door. After waiting a while longer, he still got no answer. He furrowed his brow in confusion. Were they out? No, their car was still in the driveway. He reached experimentally for the doorknob, and found that it swung open easily. Oh! He understood now; they probably figured he'd be coming, so they left the door open. They were probably listening to some really loud music and couldn't hear the knocking.

Such are the leaps of logic that regularly occur in the mind of Feliciano Vargas. He stepped into the house happily, grinning as he searched around for his brother. The house was really more of a mansion, huge and beautifully decorated to an extent that he figured Lovino had probably had a hand in picking out a lot of the furnishings. He giggled as he imagined the conversation in his head.

_"__If you think I'm going to live like this then you've got another thing coming, tomato bastard!"_

_ "__But Lovino, what's wrong with my house? I really don't understand-"_

_ "__Idiot! Who pairs purple with yellow? Five year old girls, that's who! We're going shopping, _now."

Poor Antonio… but then, he'd known what he was getting into when he started dating Lovino. Feliciano, satisfied that they probably weren't on the first floor, began climbing the stairs to the second. He searched through the hallway there until he was stopped by the sound of voices.

"T-Toni! No, no don't stop!" Oh! That was Lovino's voice! He skipped to the door the voice was coming from, and happily pulled it open, to find… oh. _Oh._

"Umm…" Feliciano stood dumbstruck in the doorway, totally at a loss for what to do in the situation. For a moment, everyone just stared at each other.

"F-Feli?" Antonio finally broke the silence, which seemed to be all the moment needed for the floodgates to open.

"Argh, you idiot bastard!" Lovino growled, wrapping a sheet around his lower half as he stood angrily off the bed. "DIDN'T ANYONE EVER TEACH YOU HOW TO KNOCK?!"

"I'm sorry please don't hurt me!" Feliciano squeaked out as his brother came stomping toward him, looking by all means like a man with murder on his mind. Just as Lovino was about to lunge for his little brother, Feliciano came back to himself and ducked out of the way, running as fast as his legs could carry him.

"ANTONIO!" Lovino shouted.

"Y-yes, Lovi?" Antonio answered, really wishing he had had the presence of mind to lock the front door.

"Wait here, I'm going to go take care of the little shit." He pulled on his boxers in two seconds flat, and was out the door and after his brother. "GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE BASTARD!"

Feliciano pealed through the house, taking care not to break anything and make his brother even more furious than he already was. He cursed his own naivety when he heard Lovino chasing after him, and literally leapt out the door in a bid to get to his car before Lovino could. Now would be a really good time to have those white flags back!

"W-WHITE FLAG!" He shouted desperately, hoping that Lovino would get the message. "WHITE FLAG, WHITE FLAG!" To his utter surprise, Lovino actually stopped short on the driveway, looking at Feliciano with one brow arched high towards the sky.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked.

Feliciano gladly explained, happy to have anything to distract from the current situation. "L-Ludwig took away my white flags and said I could have a kitten if I went without them for one whole week so I don't have my flags with me so I thought saying it might work!" He said frantically.

"Wha- never mind that! You're just distracting me! What the fuck were you doing up there anyway?!" Lovino shouted angrily, his hands on Feliciano's shoulders as he shook him quite violently.

"I-I'm sorry! I was lonely and I wanted to spend the day with you and Toni and I knocked and the door was open and then I heard your voice and I didn't think!" Feliciano said in rapid-fire fashion.

"Of course you didn't! You NEVER THINK! Gah, is it just empty air up there?" To be honest, Lovi really didn't know what to do with his little brother. He'd never actually been fast enough to catch him before… like a dog chasing cars, Lovino had always just chased and threatened, but to his extreme embarrassment, he couldn't actually bring himself to do anything _bad_ to Feliciano. So he settled for cursing him out vehemently. Feliciano stood in place and winced as his brother began to weave a string of expletives. He knew better than to try comforting him; sometimes you just had to let him wear himself out.

"Lovi!" They both turned to see who had interrupted Lovino's tirade. It was, of course, Antonio, having sloppily pulled on his clothes to make sure the younger Italian didn't end up dead. "Lovi, darling, it's alright!"

"The fuck it is!" Lovino growled. "This little idiot walked in on us when- you, know, when we were- dammit, you know what I mean!"

"I know, querido." Antonio wrapped his arms around the Italian, smiling when he saw the blush it caused. "It isn't as if he meant it though. Feliciano?" He turned to the younger brother. "What _did_ you come here for?"

Feliciano took a deep breath, and started the story over again, this time without the threat of his brother's wrath if he didn't speak quickly. "W-well, Ludwig left for a business meeting, and then Gilbert left to go drinking with Francis, and I was all alone and I didn't want to just stay in the house until they came back, so I thought I'd visit you and fratello, because we haven't seen each other in a while and I miss you." He directed the last bit at Lovino, who seemed to have calmed exponentially since the Spaniard had arrived.

"Idiota…" Lovino said, lapsing momentarily into Italian. "You could have called beforehand…"

"Ve, I'm sorry!" Feliciano said. "I will next time, I promise!" He looked sadly at his car, and then back to the others. "I'll get going now…" Antonio raised an eyebrow at Lovino, who grimaced as soon as he got what his boyfriend was hinting at. He really, really hated him some days.

"Feliciano!" Lovino called. Feliciano stopped, having already gotten about halfway to his car.

"Si?" He said, turning around.

"You can…" Lovino looked at the ground as he talked. "Dammit, you can stay a while if you want."

Feliciano's face immediately lit up, and he practically tackled his brother with a hug. "Grazie, Lovino!" He squealed with his arms around the older nation.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME!" Lovino shouted, causing Feliciano to immediately release him. Lovino grumbled under his breath as he made a show of dusting himself off. "You can stay as long as you don't pull anything like that, you _idiot."_

Feliciano nodded, unfazed by the insult. "Si! Yes, of course!" He said happily.

"Well then!" Antonio stepped in, smiling. "We have a guest now! How about we treat him to lunch?" He suggested, putting his arms around the shoulders of both Italians.

"Ve, is it that time already?" Feliciano asked.

Antonio nodded. "That it is! So then, what do you two want for lunch?"

Feliciano opened his mouth to speak, but Lovino beat him to it. "If you say pasta, I will end you." He growled.

"B-but Lovi! You love pasta!" Feliciano said, surprised. How could his brother reject such an important part of their culture? And such a tasty part, too?"

"Not for _every meal, _dumbass!" Lovino shouted.

"Ah, but Lovi," Antonio interjected. "You haven't had pasta in a while, hm?"

"But! You! ARGH!" Lovino finally relented, throwing his hands up in the air in surrender. "Fine! Pasta! Go ahead and make all the pasta you want, _boatloads _of pasta! See how many fucks I give!" He began storming back toward the house, opening the door a bit too violently and stepping in, the others following behind him.

"Ahahaha, I'm sorry about him." Antonio apologized, laughing sheepishly.

"Ve, it's okay." Italy replied as they stepped into the house themselves. "He's actually a lot nice since you two started dating!"

"Ah, well, it's nice to know I'm a good influence!" Walking through the house, they found Lovino standing in the kitchen, muttering to himself and pulling out ingredients from the cupboard and refrigerator.

"Lovi?" Antonio said questioningly as he watched him bustle about the kitchen. "You're going to help?"

"So what if I am?" Lovino said as he set a pot on to boil. "J-just don't get any ideas, tomato bastard. I'm not cooking like this every day."

This, it seemed, was too much for Antonio to handle. He immediately leapt forward and hugged the Italian affectionately, startling him. "You're so good to me, querido!" He said happily.

"IDIOTA!" Lovino shouted. "Do you see this?" He pointed to the stove. "This is _fire! _You don't go tackling people around fire, you _stupid-"_

Feliciano took that moment to edge out of the kitchen, as the two began one of their strange one-sided arguments. One-sided mainly because while Lovino was keen to shout and protest, Antonio never did much but fawn over the Italian and attempt to placate him no matter what he was saying. Anyway, Feliciano figured this was one instance he could probably stand to leave himself out of the cooking process, and contented himself with exploring the Spaniard's house.

It really was a nice place. While it was large, and you could definitely tell that the owner had money to spare, there was a homey, lived-in look to it that made it feel as welcoming as any family home. He smiled when he saw the pictures lining one of the walls, mostly framed photographs of Antonio and Lovino together. He wandered until he found a window, and looked eagerly outside to be greeted by a large tomato field, the fruits glistening in the sun. Tomatoes were special to Spain, Italy knew. Not just because he loved the taste of the fruit, but because they were the first thing he and Romano had shared in common. He didn't blame his brother either; Antonio's tomatoes were delicious.

"Feliciano! Get down here, the pasta is almost ready!" Feliciano jumped at his brother's shout. Had he really been wandering around that long? He ran happily back through the house to the dining room, where Antonio was setting the table. His mouth began to water as he watched each heaping plate of pasta be set down, covered in sauce that was no doubt made of Antonio's special tomatoes.

"Ve, it looks delicious!" He said, sitting at the table with the others.

"It better be." Lovino grumbled, though with significantly less hostility than before his and Antonio's argument. Sometimes a man just needs to vent. They all stuck forks in the pasta, Feli and Antonio giving simultaneous noises of approval as they ate.

"This is really good!" Feliciano said happily. "Toni, are these your tomatoes?"

Antonio nodded. "Si, they are! But Lovi made the sauce, isn't that right, querido?"

Lovino smirked. "Yeah, well, if there's one thing I can do it's cook. What else would you expect from South Italy himself?" He said, twirling his own fork around in his pasta.

Antonio smiled proudly at Lovino, before turning back to the younger brother. "So, Feliciano, what's been happening with you?"

"Well…" The Italian realized then that he had yet to properly explain about his current situation. "Oh! Ludwig's getting me a kitten!"

Lovino raised his eyebrow. "He's letting you get a kitten? Really?"

"Si!" Feliciano said. "There's a condition, though."

Lovino leaned forward. "Oh, I've gotta hear this."

"Ludwig said I could have a kitten if I can go one week without my white flags." Feliciano said.

Lovino immediately burst into laughter. "Ha! That is perfect! Oh my god, your fiancé is a genius!" He said jovially. "Oh… so that's what you were blabbing on about outside?"

The younger nodded. "That's right! I've already gone five whole days without them!"

"That's wonderful, Feli!" Antonio said. "You're very brave, you know that?"

"Ve? You think so?" Feliciano had never thought of himself as brave. No, he had always seen himself as quite the coward, running from any and every threat and never bothering to stand up for himself. He used to be ashamed of it, but at some point he had just given himself over to the fact that that was what he was; a coward. Which is why he was surprised by the Spaniard's statement.

"Si, I do." Antonio said. "Don't let anybody tell you any different, alright?"

Feliciano smiled. "I won't." He replied, not bothering to argue the compliment.

The three spent a while together, chatting and reminiscing about old times, and soon the clock told them it was four in the afternoon.

"Oh no! I didn't think it was that late, I'd better get going!" Feliciano said when he saw the time. He stood from the dining chair he was still sitting in. The three hadn't bothered to move from the dining room after the conversation had really gotten going.

"So soon?" Antonio asked.

Feliciano nodded. "Ludwig should be home by now! He's probably worried!"

"Ah, well. Have a good trip home, Feliciano!" Antonio turned to Lovino, giving him a pointed look.

"Yeah, yeah." Lovino grumbled. "Have a… have a good trip, dammit."

Feliciano smiled. "I will! Ciao!" The others said their goodbyes as well as he left out the door, hopping into his car and driving off. By the time he arrived back at the house, both Ludwig's and Gilbert's cars were already in the long driveway. He pulled up behind them, and stepped out of the car and up to the front door, pulling it open. "Ve, Luddy! I'm back!" He called through the house.

"Feli?" Feliciano looked to see Ludwig appear out of the living room, giving him a confused look. "Where did you go this time?" By now he had learned to just resign himself to Feliciano's disappearances. Funnily enough, though it was well known that the Italian wasn't the most sensible of people, he seemed to have enough dumb luck never to get into any serious trouble when Ludwig wasn't there to protect him. As Lovi had once put it, the universe just didn't have the heart to hurt someone as dumb as he was. Of course, Ludwig wouldn't say it quite like that, but that was the general gist.

Feliciano gave the German a chaste kiss on the lips, smiling as he pulled back. "I went to fratello's house and ate pasta!" He said happily.

"Good for you." Ludwig said.

"Hey, West!" They both turned at the call from Gilbert, who was still sitting in the living room. "Is that Feli?"

"Ja, it's him." Germany answered.

"Cool! He can join us, then!"

Germany groaned and put his hand to his forehead, as Feliciano cocked his head in confusion. "Ve? Ludwig, what's he talking about?" The Italian asked.

"He wanted to play video games." Ludwig explained, hoping he could get the veto from Feli and continue the night in peace

What he wasn't expecting was for his little Italian to love the idea. "Ooh, which game?" He asked.

"Ever played Call of Duty?" Prussia called from the living room.

"No?" Feliciano called back.

"Want to?"

Feliciano smiled. "Si!" He called. "Ludwig, let's go!" He took the German by the arm and led him into the living room, grabbing a controller and sitting down as Gilbert began the game. Ludwig sighed as he was pulled along and handed a controller of his own. Well… it wasn't how he'd envisioned the night, but what the heck; he could try something new.


End file.
